


no matter where you are (no matter how far)

by ceaseandexist



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Everest Au, Extremely minor character death, Harry and Louis are climbers, Jesy is the best, Liam is a misunderstood member of the expedition, M/M, Niall is their guide who has a fear of heights, and Zayn leaves abruptly at the beginning, major character injury/illness, the tiniest shred of homophobia. if you blink you'll miss it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 22:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6585103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceaseandexist/pseuds/ceaseandexist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You kind of have to be a little bit dumb to decide to climb Everest, I think,” Harry says. “Like at some point you should probably say to yourself, ‘Hey, this is really dangerous and expensive and stuff, and maybe I should just, like, become an architect or something.’”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Louis cocks an eyebrow. “An architect, Haz? Is that your secret dream? You want to build --”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Shh,” Harry says, holding a finger up to Louis’s lips. “I’m trying to make a point. Just that, like, at some point, we all make a stupid choice to put our lives in danger, but that’s just part of why climbing this mountain is such an accomplishment, right? Because most people aren’t dumb enough to try.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Or: An Everest AU where Louis sets out to climb the tallest mountain on the world and meets a curly-haired guy named Harry who worms his way into Louis's life. It's not long before reaching the summit becomes the least of Louis's worries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no matter where you are (no matter how far)

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot believe I actually finished this fic. I first became interested in Everest after reading a random post on Tumblr a year ago about why climbing Everest is insane. For some reason, that post got me hooked on finding out what climbing Everest is like. I've never been to Everest, nor have I ever climbed a mountain, but I've done extensive research on Everest and mountain climbing and have read all kinds of books and watched every Everest documentary I could find in the past 12 months.
> 
> The route used in this fic is the South Col route. This is a reference image of the route from sevensummittreks.com 
> 
> If anyone reading this has ever climbed Everest, first off congrats! That's incredible! Second, I apologize for any inaccuracies. I've tried my best to get everything right, but please let me know if there's anything I messed up.
> 
> A huge thank you goes out to Annie, without whom I'd never write fic in the first place. You're the best cheerleader, editor, brainstormer and Montreal/concert buddy anyone could ask for. I couldn't have done this without you. I'd also like to thank Amy for her editing help, feedback and love for Louis and Niall in this fic. Thank you to Casey for living with me while I wrote this and encouraging me to write every time I was lazily doing nothing on the couch instead. Thanks to Brie for always being there and for listening to my rambling texts about this fic even though I haven't shown any of it to her before publishing. 
> 
> Also a big thank you to [@birdstattoo](http://birdstattoo.tumblr.com/) for putting up with my constant delays and still providing the incredible art and [playlist](http://8tracks.com/andthemoons/heart-next-to-mine). I highly recommend listening to the music while reading this. It's a perfect selection for this fic.
> 
> The title for the fic comes from Marvin Gaye's "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" because this is an Everest fic and I had to use it. 
> 
>  

 

 

 

_May 11: Summit Day_

 

It’s fortunate that Louis is climbing below Harry when Harry falls. The day is just as perfect as Niall predicted it would be, the sky clear, the wind relatively calm considering the way gusts usually barrel through at hurricane force when you’re 8,000 meters above sea level atop Mt. Everest. The sun is still rising, and it glows against the snow and ice of the mountain in a way that makes everything seem golden. It’s breathtakingly beautiful, serene even, which makes it that much stranger that Harry would fall then.

Louis doesn’t see what caused the fall. He was busy securing his harness to follow Harry up when Niall yells.

“Harry!” It’s just one word, one name, but that yell changes everything for Louis.

Louis’s head jerks up just in time to see the purple bundle of down jacket that is Harry zip down the rope he was using to climb up the rock wall. His arm and shoulder crash off the side of the mountain and his body goes limp as it careens downward. Another climber from above must grab the rope to break Harry’s fall, but the sudden tension sends Harry’s body flying back into the wall. His leg smashes into the rock first, but Harry doesn’t react. He looks lifeless.

The rock wall is a short one, maybe just 50 yards, and they were climbing up one by one. Louis was supposed to head up after Harry, but instead he yanks on the rope to pull Harry down to the group huddled at the foot of the wall.

Niall is right there to help Louis lay Harry on his back in the snow, then Niall digs through his pack to find his first aid kit.

Louis scrambles into a crouch over Harry’s body, slapping at his cheeks to try to get him to open his eyes. “Harry?” Louis yells. “Harry?”

Harry doesn’t respond. Louis is vaguely aware of the others standing in a circle around Harry and him while Niall fumbles with Harry’s snowsuit and gives him an injection of something. But Louis can’t process much other than the man in the purple snowsuit beneath him, the man who, despite everything that happened, despite everything they said to each other, somehow still means everything to him.

Harry fell. Harry fell and he’s not waking up, and all Louis can think is that this is all his fault.

  
***

_April 8: Arrival at Base Camp_

 

Just over a month before Harry’s fateful fall, Louis arrives at Everest Base Camp -- a place he head dreamt of going nearly his entire life -- in a terribly foul mood. He spent every second of the trek to base camp with a fellow Brit named Zayn, and that was a mistake, considering Zayn was only there for the trek to camp and not for the actual climbing expedition. Now Zayn and all the other non-climbers from the trek have turned around to go home and Louis walks into base camp without the only person he spent significant time with on the trip so far. Louis is all alone in a foreign land, about to embark on the greatest adventure of his life. He has nobody to share it with.

The rest of the group drops their packs and spreads out, surveying the area that will become home for the better part of the next two months. Base Camp is fairly barren. Nothing grows there -- no grass or trees or flowers -- because it’s at too high of an elevation for anything to grow. The land is covered in rocks instead, and Louis has to watch his step to keep from tripping over the uneven terrain. Everything is a shade of grey, black or brown with a smattering of dirty snow piles all around. The mountains sit at the edge of Base Camp, a constant reminder of why everyone at Base Camp is there.

There are dozens of different expedition groups at Base Camp, and each has its own colored tent. Louis’s expedition group, Altitude Adventurers, has orange tents clustered near the edge of Base Camp.

Louis has his priorities set for his first day at Base Camp. Mission one involves claiming a tent as far away from the nearest toilet as possible.

One other climber beats him to the task — Henry, Louis thinks. He’s a weird one, that Henry. He spent a lot of nights knitting by the fire at the teahouses they stayed in during their trek. Zayn and Louis used to joke about Henry behind his back. All Louis knows about Henry is that he’s British and a little odd.

But Louis would much prefer having Henry as a neighbor than the toilet, so he puts his pack down in front of the tent next to Henry’s and gets on unpacking. There aren’t a whole lot of luxuries for anyone on Everest. The tent is basic, just a cot to lay his sleeping bag on and a low bench covered in a blanket with two drawers underneath it for his other belongings. Louis doesn’t mind the stark surroundings though. He’s here to climb that tallest mountain in the world, not to relax at a luxury hotel.

Louis is just laying out his sleeping bag over the cot when he hears rustling from the flap at the entrance of his tent.

“Hey neighbor, how’s it going?” Henry asks. He’s standing just outside the unzipped tent, his whole face lit up in a smile.

“Uh, good thanks.” Louis straightens up and turns toward Henry, hands on his hips. “You already settled in?”

Henry shrugs. “More or less,” he says. His voice is deep and warm, and it instantly puts Louis at ease. Louis isn’t sure how he hasn’t noticed it over the 12 days of the trek.  

Henry surveys Louis’s tent, his few belongings dumped out on the floor. “You didn’t bring much,” Henry observes.

“Nah,” Louis says. “I’m just here to climb the mountain. How much do I really need?”

“True,” Henry acknowledges. He gestures to a small canvas carrier bag he’s holding. “Told the sherpas I’d give them some of the British candy I brought if they traded me some Nepalese goodies. D’you want to come?”

Louis refolds a blanket and rests it over the end of his sleeping bag. He should probably get to know Henry considering he’s going to be climbing the tallest mountain in the world with him, but the loss of Zayn just makes Louis want to be alone. It’s almost like he’s in mourning. “Nah, I just want to finish unpacking,” Louis says.

Henry pulls a green beanie over his curls and shrugs. “Yeah, yeah of course. See you later, yeah Louis?”

Louis nods. “Sure. See you later, Henry.”

Henry gives him a weird look before he walks away.

It’s only when Louis leaves for lunch that he finds the sign on the side of his new neighbor’s tent: “Chateau du Harry: All are welcome xx”

Harry. Not Henry.

Louis is an idiot.  

 

***

 

Louis plans to avoid Harry for the rest of the day so as not to further embarrass himself, but Harry manages to corner Louis outside the dining tent after dinner. Louis’s a little nauseous. He’s still trying to adjust to the elevation, he thinks, but he doesn’t want to tell anyone because everyone else seems to be feeling fine. Louis isn’t about to earn a reputation this early on as the weak one.

He heads out to one of the boulders near their camp, a small little secluded place that has a nice view of the sprawling city of tents that make up Everest Base Camp. It’s chilly at Everest, but not freezing until climbers actually start scaling the mountain. On this night, Louis is perfectly comfortable outside in just a light jacket and hoodie. The boulder he picks is the perfect height to sit on, and his feet dangle just a meter or so above the ground. Plus, if he throws up here, no one will see it.

Or at least he doesn’t think anyone will see it until Harry comes wandering by, a goofy grin on his face.

He sits down next to Louis and doesn’t say anything, just looks up at the stars. Louis waits for him to either say something or go away, but when it’s clear that Harry isn’t about to do either of those things, Louis speaks up.

“Hey mate, what’s going on?” he says, trying to use a tone of voice which communicates something along the lines of “I don’t feel well and if you don’t clear out of here soon, you’re going to have to watch me puke.”

But Harry doesn’t seem to get the hidden message. He just draws his knees up and lays back on the rock. “I like looking the stars when I’m in the mountains,” he says, gesturing up to the sky. “They’re so much brighter out here. And I thought maybe you’d want some company.”

“I was actually just getting some fresh air. I don’t feel that great, so --”

“Oh, are you feeling sick?” Harry asks, quick and concerned. “You should’ve said so!”

“I just did,” Louis points out, but Harry ignores him and hops to his feet.

“Come with me,” he says. “I have some stuff in my tent that might help.”

“I’m fine out here,” Louis says, patting the rock he’s sitting on. “Just a bit of nausea. It’s no big deal.”

Harry just grabs Louis’s wrist and leads him toward their tents. “I have something that’ll make you better in no time. It’s natural, don’t worry. Like a remedy, sort of. It’s … it’ll be good. Just follow me.”

“Is this the part where you abduct me under the cover of night and murder me and then hide my bones somewhere deep within the mountain where no one can ever find them?” Louis asks.

Louis is stupid and he makes stupid comments and saying things like that are a great way to help him not make friends, but Harry just laughs at him and continues to drag Louis along until they reach Harry’s tent. He gestures for Louis to sit down on the cot, then digs through a bag, tossing various sweaters, hoodies and even a few pair of pants out until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Here,” Harry says, holding out a small green and black beaded bracelet. “This will help.”

Louis takes it from him and holds it up dubiously. “A bracelet? To help with nausea?”

Harry shakes his head at Louis as if Louis is an idiot, then sits next to him on the cot. “It’s not just _any_ bracelet,” he says. He takes it back from Louis and fingers the beads. “It’s a special gem bracelet. It gives you good vibes. See?”

The bracelet doesn’t look special. It looks like the ones they sell at stalls and shops back home to kids who are too young to know that rocks are just rocks and aren’t worth the money the shops wants to charge for them. “Um, no, not really,” Louis admits.

“Look,” Harry says, then separates one of the green beads. “See this one here? This is jade. It’s a lucky stone. It’s supposed to help with like, reaching your goals and stuff. And then there’s hematite,” he says as he touches one of the black stones. “It’s a protective stone. It’s supposed to help you stay calm when you’re stressed, like when you’re on the mountain and have to get through a difficult situation.”

“And this one,” Harry says as he shows one of the lighter black stones, “This one is bloodstone. It helps purify your body of, like, negative energy or imbalances or whatever. It’s a healing stone. It’s really good for people like us, climbers and people who are active a lot. This is the one that will help with the nausea.”

Harry slides the beads over to separate another stone, a whitish-green one. “But this one,” he says, “this is my favorite, especially on expeditions. It’s called aventurine, which sounds kind of like adventure, right? It’s for luck and success. They call it a manifestation stone because it can help you make your dreams come true.”

Harry hands the bracelet back to Louis with a satisfied smile. Louis remains unconvinced, but he slips it on anyway. It can’t hurt, right?

“Uh thanks, then, Harry,” he says, and moves to get up, but Harry grabs his arm again.

“You don’t have to go,” he says. “Besides, I wanted to, like, just let you know that if you need a friend or anything, I’m here. Plus, you know my name now, so that’s a good start.”

Louis groans and covers his face. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he says behind the protective cover of his palms. “Bad with names and all. It’s nothing personal.”

“It’s fine,” Harry says. “Most of the time when people mess up my name, they call me Harold, so at least Henry is a better one. And, like, I know you spent a lot of time with Zayn on the trek out here, so it’s fine that you didn’t know, you know?”

Louis doesn’t know, but he shrugs anyway. “I guess.”

It doesn’t feel fine, though. Here’s Harry giving Louis this bracelet thing and sitting with him while Louis feels sick and Louis can’t even get Harry’s name right. He’s a typical Tomlinson. He can’t do anything right. He’s only in Base Camp and already he feels sick and inadequate.

“How many mountains have you climbed?” Louis asks. He knows Harry’s experienced. There’s just that aura about him, that relaxed ease that says “I’ve been here before. I know what I’m doing.” But Harry seems young, too young to be _really_ experienced climbing.

“This is my last of the seven summits,” Harry says, and it knocks the air out of Louis because the seven summits -- reaching the peak of the highest mountain on every continent -- is something Louis can’t imagine completing before he’s much older and his hair starts to grey. Louis doesn’t have the money, never mind the climbing skill. He’s climbed Denali in Alaska and set an impressive time on that climb, which is how he earned a financial sponsorship for this Everest trip. But other than that, he hasn’t been able to afford much more than a few climbs in the Alps and a lot of training on rock walls and baby peaks. Harry must be loaded.

“The seven summits? No way. How old are you?” Louis asks.

Harry blushes a bit. “Um. 23.”

Louis just stares at him. 23? That’s two years younger than Louis. “Are you having a laugh?” Louis asks.

Harry shakes his head but keeps his gaze on his toes. “No. I thought I’d just sort of save Everest for last, you know? Like cap the whole thing off with the biggest one? It sort of adds some anticipation to the whole thing.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say to that. It’s just hard to believe Harry’s already reached the peak of mountains on six different continents, because Harry just seems so _different_. He’s so out there. And for some reason, Louis equates that aloof personality with someone who isn’t really good at anything.

But the joke’s on Louis, and he leaves Harry’s tent feeling equally awed by Harry and embarrassed by his own inexperience.

 

_April 12: Puja ceremony_

 

Louis has heard a lot about the Puja ceremony that precedes any Everest expedition. It’s a way for the sherpas to pay tribute to the mountain gods and ask for safe passage on the mountain, which the sherpas believe is the domain of the gods. They believe it’s disrespectful to climb without the gods’ blessings first.

Louis’s group’s Puja ceremony comes after lunch on their fourth day in camp. A Buddhist monk comes in especially for the service, and the sherpas set up a shrine made of rocks in the open space at the center of their expedition’s cluster of tents. The shrine sits at the base of a pole which sherpas tied prayers flags to, and strings of flags stretch out from the pole to the edges of their cluster. A photo of the Dalai Lama is placed reverently atop the rocks at the base of the pole, and all of the climbers in their group add their climbing gear to the pile so it will be blessed too. They also include some personal touches. Louis’s is a teddy bear his friends all signed for him to take with him on the trip. Harry adds his worn down journal into the pile and as well as an odd little frog ring.

Louis sits on a mat between Harry and Niall, an Irishman who will serve as one of their expedition leaders. It’s Niall’s first time guiding and he doesn’t look much older than Harry, but Niall is easygoing and fun to be around, and -- as he proudly tells the group -- he even has hair on his chest. Louis’s been assured that Niall summited Everest before, so Louis figures it’s probably fine for Niall to be their guide even if Niall is exaggerating about his body hair.

The sherpas burn juniper branches as the monk starts to chant from what looks like a very old book. Harry gets really into the Puja ceremony. He sits with his eyes closed and his legs folded like a pretzel, his knee bumping against Louis’s thigh. It looks like he’s meditating.

Louis tries to enjoy the moment too. He’d been looking forward to this ceremony ever since he got confirmation of his place on this expedition. It feels like a rite of passage, something else he can check off his list and say he’s done. And the ceremony doesn’t disappoint. It’s as if Louis is part of something mystical as the chanting continues. The sound of words blurring together in a language he doesn’t understand, said in a reverent way, makes it feel like there’s something very unique about the experience. It’s almost like there’s something inherently lucky about it too. Then one of the sherpas, Dengbo, comes by, and offers Louis a bit of bread and a shot of some sort of dark liquid.

Louis takes the glass as Dengbo nods to Louis and makes a drinking motion. “You have some!” he tells Louis.

The liquid burns as it makes it’s way down Louis’s throat. It’s like he’s back in school again, doing a shot of cheap liquor because he’s too young to buy himself the good stuff.

“What was that?” Louis asks Niall as he rinses his mouth out with water.

Niall chuckles. “Chiang. It’s like a rice wine. It’s … well, it’s an acquired taste.” Niall downs his own shot of the stuff and grins. “Straight, no chaser,” he says proudly.

Alcohol is in short supply on Everest. It’s dehydrating, and that’s not good for the acclimatization process, but once the sherpas break open the cases of beer, Louis joins right in. It’s one of the few times in the next two months he’ll be able to excuse any drinking, so he better make the most of it while he can.

Eventually some sort of signal is given, something the sherpas clearly understand, because they suddenly urge everyone to stand up. They pick up plates loaded with what looks like flour, and then the sherpas divide and conquer, making their way around the circle and smearing the flour on everyone’s faces.

“I give you beard, big and hairy,” Dengbo jokes as he slaps flour across Louis cheeks.

“May I?” Louis asks, gesturing toward the plate. Dengbo nods, so Louis scoops up a handful and smears it across Dengbo’s face. Harry laughs in delight beside him.

“You can have a big, hairy beard too,” Louis says, then scoops up some more flour and tosses it into Harry’s hair.

“Hey!” Harry objects. He leans forward and shakes his hair at Louis, spreading bits of flour everywhere. It’s a declaration of war, as far as Louis is concerned. He grabs another handful of flour and throws it at Harry, then runs and ducks to avoid getting hit. Harry is delighted and joins right in, as does the rest of their group. They’re making a right mess, but the sherpas don’t seem to mind. In fact, they join in too. Louis gives Dengbo a high five when he nails Niall with a handful of flour in the back of the head. Louis is a master at this game. He stays the cleanest with the exception of his newly acquired beard, but Harry is a disaster, his whole face and hoodie caked in flour.

“This just means I’m the luckiest,” Harry says, arms raised like a champion when Niall makes Harry pose for a photo. “I’m definitely going to summit.”

Louis hopes he's right.

 

_April 15: First climb to Camp 1_

 

The Puja ceremony, while fun, just makes Louis more anxious to start climbing, but Everest is all about patience. That’s what Louis tries to remind himself as he watches the sherpas head up the mountain to fix rope the morning after the Puja. Fixing rope is the process of securing a safety rope to the mountain for climbers to clip into as they go up and down the mountain, and without it, Everest would be much more difficult to climb.

But while Louis knows the process of waiting for sherpas to fix rope is essential, he can’t curb the itch to start climbing now that he’s actually at Everest. It doesn’t help when their expedition group remains in Base Camp the next day, when three of the other expeditions from Base Camp complete their first hike up to Camp 1 and back.

Louis had read and reread the schedule for climbing Everest so many times before his trip that he could practically teach a class in it. He knows hanging around Base Camp for a while is all part of the acclimatization process and the efforts to keep traffic on the mountain’s narrow and icy slopes to a minimum.

And it’s not like they’ll go all the way up the mountain the first time they climb. In order to help the body adjust to the altitude without getting too sick, climbers take a month to complete small climbs up and down the mountain. The first climb goes up to the first camp, then back down to Base Camp for a few days of rest. The second climb goes up to Camp 2, where groups spend a night or two on the mountain, then they go back down to Base Camp for another few days of rest. Then it’s up to Camp 3 with an overnight at Camp 2 and Camp 3, then back down to Base Camp again for another few days. After that, depending on the weather of course, groups can start to plan for the final climb all the way up to the summit of Everest.

Louis spends the few days at Base Camp between the Puja and their first climb trying to get to know everyone in their group a little better. There’s another Irish guy named Willie who is just as easygoing as Niall, and a Brit named Andy who seems a little out of shape for Everest but appears determined to climb anyway. One of the girls, Jesy, is a bit of a spitfire like Louis. She somehow convinced their whole group to make a video of them doing the “Whip/Nae Nae” dance for her YouTube channel.

But even though Louis is trying to be more diverse with his post-Zayn friendships, he spends the most time with Harry. It’s not intentional; it’s just that spending time with Harry is easy. Harry makes Louis laugh whenever Louis needs to laugh, and he’ll sit quietly with Louis and watch a DVD or listen to music whenever Louis’s tired. Harry even brings Louis out of his comfort zone a bit, somehow managing to convince Louis to participate in some early morning yoga with Harry (preparation for climbing, and as Harry claims, to become more “one” with the mountain).

Louis learns all about Harry pretty quickly. Harry’s from Cheshire, and he has a mum, a dad, a step-dad and a sister named Gemma. He writes about his adventures on a travel blog and freelances for a magazine, but Harry inherited a significant amount of money from his grandmother and mostly uses that inheritance to pay for his climbing trips.

Harry’s sister is pregnant, and Harry tells Louis about some sort of complicated plan to take small packets of soil saved from the summit of every mountain he’s climbed and put it together into some sort of baby gift. Harry says he’s excited to have a baby niece or nephews, but he doesn’t spend much time at home because he’s always traveling, climbing mountains around the world and also spending time learning about new cultures on new continents.   

Sometimes, when Harry doesn’t realize Louis’s watching, Harry will stop in the middle of something -- a short hike or a group dinner or just during a random quiet moment in the morning -- and he’ll write in his notebook about what he sees, his hand skimming across the page as if he has to get the words out for some unknown deadline. Louis likes the idea of recording the experience in a journal. He even tries it himself, typing out a few lines about the day on his laptop at night, but Louis was never really an academic. He can’t seem to translate his experiences into actual words on a page, so he gives up pretty quickly.

Louis does excel at physical training, however, and he is easily one of the best climbers in their group based off the small hikes they go on in the valley around Base Camp to pass the time until they climb on Everest itself. But those hikes fail to do anything to quell Louis’s eagerness to just try the real thing.

Their group’s first day of actual climbing on Everest -- a day trip up to Camp 1 -- is on a Wednesday, almost a week after arriving in Base Camp. Louis wakes up before his alarm even goes off. They head out before dawn, a tactic climbers use to navigate through the treacherous Khumbu icefall -- which stretches from just beyond Base Camp to just shy of Camp 1 -- before the sun can heat up the blocks of ice in the icefall and cause any possible shifting or partial collapse.

But Louis doesn’t think once about the dangers of the icefall as he straps on his crampons and zips up his down coat. He just focuses on the image of Camp 1 that he’s created in his mind and the memory of that satisfying burn in his lungs he always gets when he climbs.

Their group meets at the dining tent at 4 a.m., and Louis, Niall and Liam -- some bloke from England who seemed pretty strong on their little hikes -- are the only ones who seem to be mostly awake.

Harry in particular looks awful. His eyes droop more than usual, and he’s doing a pretty poor job of stifling his yawns. Louis thinks for a second that maybe he should climb just ahead of Harry so if anything is a little bit off, he can react and warn Harry of any danger, but Louis quickly stamps down that urge. He needs to prove that he’s a strong climber, and a slow first day won’t do much for that.

There is a pretty decent view of the icefall from Base Camp, but Louis isn’t quite prepared for just how majestic it really is once it comes into view. From afar, the wall of ice blocks look like something the mountain vomited up, boulders of ice cascading down toward the flatter land of Base Camp. But up close, the ice blocks are huge, bigger than his granddad’s garden shed even, and they sparkle in differing shades of white, grey and light blue. It seems impossible that they moved once, that they are _still_ moving as parts of a glacier.

“Alright, we have to establish a climbing order,” Niall says as they huddle together at the bottom of the icefall. “Anyone feel like they might have to go a bit slower today?”

A few people from the group raise their hands -- Jesy, Willie and a lad named Jeff from California. They agree to bring up the rear, then Niall does a quick scan of everyone’s faces, probably to see how alert they are. He gives everyone an order in line, and Louis can’t help but burn with a little jealousy when Niall turns to Liam to take the lead.

“Do you mind going ahead?” Niall asks. “If you’re too tired or don’t think you’re ready, there’s no shame --”

“No problem, Ni,” Liam says as if they’re old friends. “I feel great. I can do it. Just follow the rope?”

“Yeah. Okay then, if you’re ready, go ahead with Dengbo. I’ll be in the middle of the pack and Eoghan’s at the back. Here’s a radio if you guys need anything.”

Louis tries to keep his face even as Niall hands Liam the radio. He doesn’t want Niall to think he feels off in anyway, because Louis doesn’t feel off, exactly. It’s just that getting passed over for the lead feels too much like the way he’s been treated his entire life. He’s a Tomlinson, and Tomlinsons are never first. They’re the trash of the town, the family with too many kids and too many different dads and too many run-ins with the law, the bottom of the barrel. Why would anyone ever pick a Tomlinson to be a leader?  

That anger always burns somewhere inside of Louis, but when their group enters the icefall, when they’re surrounded in all directions by blocks of ice that can shift at any second, Louis is a little relieved that someone's there in front of him to lead the way.

The climbing is tough, especially considering the fact that Louis’s heart is racing a little more than usual since he’s still adjusting to the altitude. But there’s an undeniable thrill over finally climbing the real Everest, and it feels good to finally move, to spread his limbs out against ice and push himself upward.

Liam, Louis and Dengbo are climbing at a good enough clip that by the time they reach the first ladder traversing a deep and seemingly bottomless crevasse, there’s a bit of distance between them and the rest of their group.

Dengbo crosses the ladder first to make sure it’s steady and fix it if it’s not. Once he’s across, he turns around and gives a thumbs up to Louis and Liam.

“Make sure you’re clipped in well, Louis,” Liam says as he glances back at Louis to check that Louis is secured to all the right places.

“Could be fun to just try to run across off rope, though, right Payne?”

Louis is joking, obviously, but Liam doesn’t seem to think it’s very funny. “Kidding! I was kidding,” Louis finally allows when Liam just keeps looking at him all concerned. Leave it to Liam to be Captain Serious.

Liam starts to step cautiously across the ladder, holding tightly to the ropes at the side which help keep them upright. “Don’t fall,” he calls back to Louis once he’s nearly across. There’s a hint of disdain in his voice.

Louis’s legs _do_ feel a bit shaky as he starts to cross. He decides it would be easier to handle the stress if Liam had just been willing to joke with him about it.  

Harry would be willing to joke around with him, Louis thinks. Harry is always up for a bit of fun. Louis very suddenly realizes that he wasn’t paying attention to exactly where Harry was in the line when Niall assigned them spots earlier that day. Is Harry toward the back, among the stragglers with Eoghan? Will he be one of the climbers trying to make it through when the ice is warming in the sun and therefore more prone to collapse? Or is he closer to the middle with Niall? Surely Harry would be near the middle. He’s so experienced, after all. He’ll be fine even though he seemed a bit sleepy.

Liam and Louis make quick work of the climbing through the icefall. Liam is strong and each move he makes seems effortless. But it can’t be as easy as Liam makes it look, because this part of the climb is one of the hardest technical sections of Everest and Louis’s body definitely feels the consequences. They use their ice axes quite a bit, and Louis’s arms start to feel like jelly before they’re even halfway through. His lungs are burning and he keeps coughing away tickles in his throat, but Liam seems strong the whole way and Louis isn’t about to be left in the dust. They don’t talk much. Mostly, all they can hear are the chips of their axes and the crunch of their boots in the ice and snow. Liam glances back at Louis before every ladder, and the concerned looks only increase as Louis starts coughing more.

Louis is starting to feel like the annoying little brother trailing his older sibling around.

The burning in his lungs is nearly paralyzing as they climb a mostly vertical ladder, and after Louis scrambles over the top, he doubles over and grips his knees tightly as he tries to catch his breath.

The only sign of Liam exerting himself whatsoever is the pink tinge to his cheeks. He turns toward Louis, hands on his hips, and sighs. “If you want me to stop to take a break with you, I’ll do it,” Liam offers.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Louis says. “Just not quite used to climbing at this altitude, right?”

Liam eyes him, considering. “We should definitely take a break then. The whole climb today is about getting used to the mountain, not beating it.”

“Nonsense, Payno. It’s all about who gets to camp first. And if you don’t start getting a move on, then I’m going to have to pass you.”

Liam frowns at Louis as if Louis is some obstinate child, but then he climbs on, Louis right behind, and soon they’re starting to see the sky more frequently than more gargantuan blocks of ice. Louis starts to feel a bit headachy as they get close to the third hour of climbing, but it’s not long after when they clamber up and over a final block of ice and see the bright orange tents of Camp 1 in the distance, a short, barely uphill walk away.

Louis imagined his first sight of Camp 1 would be a moment of triumph, but all he feels is exhaustion in every limb of his body. At least Liam is breathing a bit heavier than he had been at the start of the climb.

When they reach the edges of the camp in the large valley-like area above the icefall, a sherpa hustles over with two hot thermoses of tea.

“Welcome to Camp 1,” he says as he pressed a thermos into each of their hands. “Come sit.” He gestures toward a large orange tent with a few benches arranged into a U-shape inside. “You rest here until the rest of your group arrives, yes?”

Louis collapses onto a bench and lies on his back, waiting until he’s able to finally catch his breath. Liam sits as if he’s just getting home from another day of work and slowly but methodically strips some of his gear off.

“I told you you should have taken a break,” Liam says once the sherpa is gone. Louis would throw something at him if he had the energy.

It takes a few hours for the rest of the group to catch up, and Louis gains a decent amount of strength back in that time. By the time Harry meanders into the tent, Louis is sitting upright again.

Harry should look tired given how long he spent climbing, but instead he looks just as cheery as he does for their morning yoga sessions. He has a healthy pink glow to his cheeks, and he’s already taken his hat and jacket off so he’s just in his grey snowpants and a tight black lycra climbing shirt. Harry is surprisingly muscular given how gangly he is, and all Louis can think about is the curve of Harry’s biceps and what Harry’s abs must look like. He’s suddenly obsessed with the idea of what Harry’s skin would taste like, how those muscles would respond underneath his tongue.  

Louis shakes his head as Harry sits down next to him. That’s not a normal response, Louis thinks. Maybe the altitude is messing with his brain more than he thought.

“How was your climb?” Harry asks, slightly breathless. He combs a hand through his hat hair in a failed attempt to tame his matted curls into something more presentable.

 _Fine_ , Louis means to say. _A walk in the park, really_. What comes out instead is, “Rough. Liam’s good though.” Louis’s face burns. Harry doesn’t need to know what a shit climber Louis is, not when Harry is so accomplished in comparison.  

Harry looks over at Liam and scrunches up his nose, then turns back to Louis. “Yeah. I can’t imagine he’d be much fun to climb with though."

Louis smiles weakly. “It’s fine. Not here to have a laugh, right?”

“Not a laugh, no,” Harry concedes, then his face breaks into that stupid wry grin that makes Louis’s stomach feel funny. “But I personally would love to have maybe two laughs.”

There’s a wicked glint in Harry’s eyes as Louis groans. “You’ve reached a new low with that one, Styles,” Louis says, but he can’t stop himself from laughing too.

 

_April 16: Rest day_

 

Back in Base Camp the morning after their climb, Louis is feeling very tired and very sick and very stupid for having ever come to Everest in the first place. The only thing he’s even remotely grateful for is that it’s finally morning and it’s been a solid 43 minutes since the last time he had to dash out of his tent to violently upchuck the contents of his entire digestive tract. A stomach bug has been making its way through all of the different expedition groups at camp ever since they arrived, and Louis supposes this is merely his time to take part in the unfortunate rite of passage.  

Ordinarily, one of the few perks of life in Base Camp is that every morning, a sherpa comes to each climber’s tent to wake the climber up with a steaming mug of tea. It’s a moment that Louis dreads on this day, however, because he’s not sure what effect the smell of tea will have on his precariously settled stomach. So the rapping against the lining of his tent is not as welcome as it usually has been, but Louis nevertheless calls out “awake” all the same.

He expects to see the young tanned face of Pemba, the kitchen boy who normally brings the tea in the mornings, but instead he’s greeted by the concerned, green-eyed gaze of one Harry Styles.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks. He unzips Louis’s tent door and strolls right in as if Louis isn’t oozing germs out of every pore in his body.

Louis pulls his blanket up over his mouth so as not to contaminate Harry. “Stop!” Louis warns. “I think I have the plague. You don’t want to catch this. Trust me.”

Harry just kneels next to Louis’s cot and slips his cool palm against Louis’s forehead. “No fever,” he murmurs, then sets a water bottle down on the crate Louis has been using as a nightstand. “I brought you some more water. I heard you all night.”

Louis rolls over onto his side so his back is to Harry and curls up, clutching his blanket tight around himself. “I’m sorry,” Louis croaks. “I didn’t mean to keep you up. I tried to be quiet.”

Harry laughs, and to Louis’s horror, he feels the warm weight of Harry’s body sit down next to him on the cot. Does Harry not have any idea at all how stomach viruses spread?

“It’s ok. I never sleep that well on the mountain anyway,” Harry says, then places a hand on Louis’s hip. “But seriously. Do you need anything? I already told Pemba not to bring you any tea this morning, but I can always go back and --”

“No, no tea,” Louis says. The thought of putting anything into his cramping stomach only exacerbates his nausea. “You should get out of here. I don’t want you getting sick too.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry says. “I’ll probably catch it anyway. Everyone gets sick at base camp, and anyway, I’d rather have your germs than Preston’s.”

Preston is one of the Brits like them, but he’s a bit antisocial and brutish. Nearly everyone on their expedition is somewhat scared of him.

Louis rolls back over onto his back and looks up at Harry as he pulls the blanket away from his face. “Okay then,” Louis says. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Harry just smiles back down at him, and Louis wishes he had some way to record this moment the way Harry constantly records things in his journal, because Louis wants to save the memory of the way Harry looks first thing in the morning and keep it with him always, the soft curl of Harry’s hair and sleepy smile stretching lazily across his face, the clear and almost sea-green of his heavy-lidded eyes. Harry’s morning face has a habit of making Louis forget how much he hates getting up early.

If Louis didn’t know better, he’d start to think he has a bit of a crush on Harry Styles. But it’s not really possible to have a crush on anyone at Everest. Louis wouldn’t allow it.

Harry stays with Louis all day long, watching movies with him and chatting to keep Louis’s mind off his rebellious stomach. There’s electricity and even Wi-Fi at Base Camp, although the Wi-Fi is confined to the dining tents only. But solar panels on the side of each tent allow climbers to spend as much time as they want on laptops or iPads or phones even.

That electricity helps to make for a pretty relaxing day, except for the parts where Louis has to dart out of the tent to vomit on the rocks outside. Harry doesn’t seem bothered though -- he even rubs Louis’s back when he gets sick. It’s equal parts embarrassing and endearing.

And it’s weird because Louis doesn’t let anyone take care of him, ever. He never stayed home from school when he was sick because he didn’t want his mum to have to worry about whether she’d be able to take a day off work to look after him. He never sought comfort from anyone when he failed his A-levels; he just pretended he didn’t care and got drunk off his arse until he didn’t even remember what A-levels were. He never cried when his step-dad left because his sisters did cry and they needed a big brother.

But here he is, on Mt. Everest of all places, and there’s this boy who wants nothing else but to sit with a sick Louis all day. Louis should have kicked him out a long time ago, but it feels like he doesn’t know how to build those walls up against Harry, even after getting burned so recently with Zayn.

Still, Louis can’t seem to help his tendency to gravitate toward one person. It’s just the way he is. He grows obsessed with someone until they're the best friends anyone could ever have. And then, inevitably, that person leaves Louis.

He'd have thought, over the years, that he'd have gotten better at not allowing himself to get close to people, especially when he already knows how the friendship will end. Harry and Louis will reach the top of Everest and then they’ll go home, back to their separate lives, never to meet again. Louis even has plans scheduled for when he gets back to Doncaster in June. It’s back to waiting on tables at the local pub and working at the local outdoors store to help pay the bills. Harry will probably be off to his next adventure once his new niece or nephew is born.

But Louis can’t seem to pull himself away from Harry. Not when Harry sits with him all day while he’s sick and terrible company. Not when Harry grins down at him with that stupid dimple and asks if he’s ever seen The Road to El Dorado, and not when Harry giggles like the Pillsbury doughboy when Louis pokes him in said dimple as Harry searches for the movie in his iTunes library.

Harry’s too difficult to resist, so Louis decides not to think about the perils of their growing friendship so much. There’s only so much thinking the brain is capable of doing on Everest anyway, so it’s best not to waste any spare brain power on anything unrelated to the climb.

 

_April 17: Rest day_

 

Louis is lucky that they have an off-day scheduled between the day he lost to the stomach bug and the day they make their first climb to Camp 2. He’s feeling much better by morning, so he gets out of bed in time for yoga just after sunrise with Harry (and Niall too this time) then takes a morning stroll with Harry through Base Camp in which Harry and Louis try to create a definitive rankings list of whose campsite is the best in all of Base Camp (theirs comes in first, obviously, but second place and beyond are still up for grabs).

They eat lunch down in the valley where a small stream barely gurgles through a rocky crevasse … or, well, Harry eats lunch and Louis nibbles his rice and lentils with the hesitance of someone whose stomach was not on stable ground 24 hours before. The valley is warm during the day -- the sun beats off the mountains surrounding it and heats up the entire area so it’s comfortable enough to explore in just a long-sleeved shirt and trousers. It’s a nice moment as they sit and chat and eat with cool mountain water dancing between their toes.

Harry asks Louis to stay still at one point so he can take a photo of him with his ridiculous 8 mm camera, because obviously Harry is one of probably three people left on the planet who still uses real film that then needs to get developed. Louis can’t help but tease, and Harry gives up on getting a “real” photo of Louis after Louis spends a solid 10 minutes crossing his eyes, sticking out his tongue or arranging his face into a theatrically appalled gasp. Once Harry puts the camera away, Louis sits still and smiles pleasantly, and Harry just looks down, lips pursed, and shakes his head in a failed attempt to hide his own smile.

“You’re the worst,” Harry says as they start to gather up their belongings.

Louis just laughs and grabs Harry, wrestling him into a headlock to disguise his need to just touch Harry somehow. “Take it back,” Louis yells. “I won’t let you go until you take it back.”

Harry squirms under Louis’s hold, and Louis can feel the bulge of Harry’s shoulder muscles underneath his shirt as proof of how strong Harry is, but he must not be fighting Louis too hard because he can’t manage to escape from Louis’s grasp.

“You’re the worst model on all of Everest,” Harry proclaims, the statement muffled into Louis’s chest. Harry’s lips tickle through the thin cotton of Louis’s shirt as they move, and it makes something bloom deep in Louis’s core. Louis wants to hold Harry tighter, wants to feel those lips move against his bare skin. The thought jolts Louis into action. _Run!_ something in him urges. _Run far away._

So Louis does. He pushes Harry away and takes off toward base camp, cackling so deep and loud that Louis is sure the sound echoes through the valley.

He slows down eventually -- after all, he was sick the day before -- and Harry catches up quickly, falling into step wordlessly beside Louis. They take the long way back, stopping every so often to just pause and look at what feels like the beauty of the entire world spread out all around them. Harry takes a few pictures and scribbles in his notebook, and Louis tries to take those moments to commit the scene around him to memory. It’s not so much the mountains themselves, Louis thinks, as much as it’s experiencing these mountains with Harry. There is something so full, so complete about it, that Louis can just exist in that moment.

He doesn’t think about the climb or the dangers ahead or the money he didn’t have that he spent to bridge the gap between what his sponsors paid for and the rest of the cost of the expedition. He doesn’t think about the long hours ahead back home when he’ll have to work all the extra shifts the can just to make a dent in his credit card bills. He doesn’t even think about his mother’s devastated face as she kissed him goodbye at the airport, begging him to please come home to her alive and in one piece, the only time Louis really considered the dangers of climbing Everest.

He doesn’t think about any of that. Instead, it’s just him and Harry and the mountains and this overwhelming happiness that Louis doesn’t know how to begin to explain.

 

***  

 

When they finally make it back to their own camp, there’s a group of people sitting around the fire while Niall plays the guitar. Louis was planning to head back to his tent to rest, but he can’t bring himself to miss out on a good campfire, so he perches on the arm of a camping chair Harry’s sitting in and joins in as the whole group sings along to “Hotel California” with Niall.

It’s a pitchy version. Willie is especially terrible, and while he clearly has absolutely no potential to ever sing in tune, he still belts out the words, gesticulating wildly and rising out of his seat and toward the middle of the circle as if he’s a real performer.

And while Willie is never going to be a popstar, Louis reckons Harry’s good enough to draw a crowd at karaoke night in his local pub. Harry’s voice is deep and raspy, and he’s close enough to Louis that his voice rumbles through Louis’s chest when he sings. Louis doesn’t even notice the way he inches closer to Harry until Harry wraps his arms around Louis’s narrow waist and pulls him in so that Louis falls into Harry’s lap.

The motion is too much for the camping chair, which wobbles for a heart-stopping moment before tipping over and crashing to the ground, sending Louis and Harry sprawling to the dirt in a pile of limbs and laughter. Harry ends up flat on his back with Louis on top of him, and it’s as if time slows down as Louis slowly pushes himself up so his chest is hovering just above Harry’s. Harry is so close, is the thing. Louis has wanted to kiss Harry all day, he realizes. It’s as if there’s a voice in his brain which can’t be distracted now from the idea of how Harry’s lips would fit against his own, of how good the two of them could be.

But there’s a whole crowd of people around them, and besides, how is Louis supposed to know whether Harry even likes him or not? His heart is hammering in his chest and Louis is paralyzed, unable to pull away but equally unable to draw closer. Harry seems caught for a moment too. He just stays like that, complacent below Louis and searching Louis’s eyes, barely a hint of a question in his expression.

Then Niall laughs, sharp and loud, and it breaks whatever spell held Harry and Louis together. A grin creeps onto Harry’s face and Louis can’t help but lean down and lick the tip of Harry’s nose, then pulls away all too quickly and gets to his feet, righting the chair as he goes and hiding his burning face from the circle of people around the fire.

“Someone get a medic!” Louis moans as he plops down in Harry’s seat. “I think I broke my pride!”

 

***

 

Neither Harry nor Louis acknowledges the moment for the rest of the afternoon. Louis goes back to his tent shortly after to rest the way he originally intended and to talk himself out of any more ideas about kissing Harry. It’s stupid, Louis is able to tell himself once he’s away from Harry. Stupid, stupid, stupid. If Louis doesn’t stay focused on himself and the climb ahead, he’s risking both his life and his chances of summiting, and Louis needs to summit.

There are the practical reasons, of course. Louis gets a completion bonus -- £75,000 from his sponsor on top of a full reimbursement for his expeditions fees -- if he can provide a photo of himself wearing their gear at the top of Everest. Louis could do anything with that money. He could help out his mum, for one. Or he could move out of his run-down flat, possibly even live without a roommate for once. He could afford to train in the Alps. Maybe he could even start his own climbing school, help kids like him who didn’t have much to aim for as teenagers. He could show them their potential outside of a classroom.

If Louis summits, maybe he could finally erase that reputation assigned to him back in Doncaster where, because his last name is Tomlinson, he’s an automatic loser. Maybe -- if he summits -- he wouldn’t be trapped anymore, condemned to the life expected of a Tomlinson, stuck in the same city where he was born without ever amounting to anything. But Louis is determined to be someone, to prove the Tomlinson name isn’t dirt.

Just being on Everest means he’s closer to that goal than he’s ever been before, so he has to devote himself to getting rid of this stupid, distracting little crush. Summiting is everything. There’s no room for a romantic fling while he’s here. Louis is so devoted to the making sure of it that he spends his afternoon making a list of all the reasons why he can’t fall for Harry, but somewhere along the way, his list starts to include reasons such as “his dimple is too ridiculous for him to even be real” and “the butterfly tattoo on his stomach shouldn’t be as hot as it is.” That’s about the time he balls up the piece of paper in frustration and throws it at the wall of his tent, where it makes a very soft, very unsatisfying _thwop_ before fluttering to the floor. He only emerges when it’s time for dinner.

Louis makes sure to stay beside Willie and Jesy when they all gather together after dinner to plan out the next day’s climb to Camp 2. So what if Harry seats himself directly across from Louis, biting his fingernail and looking up at Louis every 2.7 seconds? It’s fine. Louis isn’t distracted by him at all. In fact, he’s intently focused on Niall, who is explaining the climbing plans from the head of the table.

“Anyone who’s strong enough will spend the night at Camp 2,” Niall says. “I need a list tonight of the people that we expect to stay there just so we have a general idea of where everyone's at before we start climbing. Otherwise you’ll spend the night at Camp 1. If you’re feeling good enough for Camp 2, raise your hand and I’ll write down your name.”

Liam’s hand is the first to go up, then there’s Jesy, Preston, an Australian girl named Melissa and Willie. Louis raises his hand too.

Niall doesn’t write down Louis’s name the way he had written down the others. “You sure you’re feeling good?” Niall asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Louis says as Niall looks once more between Louis and his pad of paper. “I’ve been up and about all day. I’m good to go.”

“Maybe you should hang back this time,” Liam suggests as if he has any type of authority at all.

Louis feels a wave of anger flush through him. What does Liam know about Louis’s strength? “Mate, I’m 25 years old. I think I know myself by now,” Louis says.

“I’m just saying, you were sick all day yesterday,” Liam explains. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Louis scoffs at him. “You really think I’d let myself get hurt?”

Liam sits back in his chair as if to put distance between him and Louis. “It’s just a bit irresponsible, don’t you think, to stay overnight when you might still be too weak to go that far?”

Louis is about to educate Liam on how very not weak he is, thank you very much, when Harry clears his throat, and Louis is momentarily relieved because at least he can count on having Harry in his corner.

But Louis clearly doesn’t know anything, because Harry instead looks over at him, concerned, and sides with Liam. “Lou, maybe it’s best if you sit this one out,” Harry says.

It’s as if Harry punched Louis in the gut. So Harry thinks he’s too weak to keep up too? Harry, the same guy who accompanied Louis all across Base Camp earlier that day? The guy who _knows_ Louis is 1000 times better than he was yesterday? Harry, who wrestled with Louis in the valley and held tightly to Louis around the campfire, would turn his back on Louis like this?

Louis can’t even look at Harry. Instead he turns to Niall and nods once at the notepad with the names of the people overnighting at Camp 2. “Put me down, Niall. I’m good. I promise.”

Niall looks unsure still, his hand hovering over the list with a clear reluctance to commit. “Louis,” he says, but Louis just leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest, his face set in a determined scowl.

“I’m fine. I’m good to go,” he says. The room is silent for one moment, two, then Niall finally shrugs. “You can always turn around when we get there,” he says as he writes Louis’s name down. “There’s no shame in it.”  

Louis barely hears what Niall has to say for the rest of the meeting. He knows it’s important that he listen carefully and take note of the hazards of the climb ahead which Niall outlines on a map, but he’s studied the route over and over again before leaving. He knows what he’s doing. He just wishes everyone else was as sure of that as he is.

Whatever. He’ll prove them wrong tomorrow.

 

_April 18: First climb to Camp 2_

 

Experience is supposed to make you better at things, but experience only makes climbing through the Khumbu Icefall worse. Louis knows exactly what to expect now. He knows about crossing ladders and has a personal memory of what it looks like to stand above a crevasse which stretches into a seemingly endless black hole.

His only saving grace this time around is that he’s climbing with Niall, not Liam, but that’s only because Liam’s up ahead with the top group of climbers -- Liam and Jesy and Preston and bloody fucking traitorous Harry. Meanwhile Louis is stuck back with the average climbers as if he’s still in climbing nursery school.

Louis didn’t have much of a choice. Niall made a deal with him that if Louis agreed to climb with the middle pack, Niall would let Louis stay for the overnight at Camp 2. Louis practically _had_ to follow Niall’s orders. Still, Louis is determined to be at the front of their group. Niall trails along right behind him as if Louis will make a run for it if Niall isn’t close by.

Niall might not be wrong about that.

Louis barely looks at him until they reach the first ladder and stop to get clipped in.

“I hate these,” Niall says as he attaches the carabiner to his safety harness.

Louis briefly glances up at Niall as he makes sure all of his own gear is good to go. “What, safety harnesses?” Louis asks. “Me too.”

Niall laughs from somewhere deep in his belly, because of course he does. Niall’s always up for having a laugh. “No, mate,” Niall says. “These ladders. I don’t like to think about not having solid earth beneath my feet.”

Louis chortles. “You picked the wrong sport if you were hoping to stay on the ground.” Louis looks across the ladder, trying to keep his gaze on the block of ice at the end rather than the dark nothingness below him. He ignores the fluttering in his stomach when he looks back at Niall to get permission to start crossing.

Niall nods at him, gaze flipping between Louis and the crevasse. They’re quiet throughout the task. The only sound is the clink of metal crampons against the steel of the ladder until both Louis and Niall are all the way across. Niall shudders as he unhooks himself from the extra ropes keeping them tied into the ladder.

“That never gets easier,” he says, then shivers like a wet dog.

“Really?” Louis asks. “Aren’t you supposed to be, like, an expert at these things? You are our guide, right?”

Niall shrugs and takes a sip of his water bottle. “Yeah, but sometimes being an expert means having a healthy fear of things that can kill you,” Niall says. His voice shakes a little, but he smiles as if he’s fine now.

Louis understands that feeling, the nervous but settled calm. Niall’s admission is like a breath of fresh air, as if hearing someone else admit to not liking the ladders -- someone as accomplished as their expedition leader, even -- makes it okay for Louis not to like them either. So what if Niall has a slight fear of heights? He still reached the summit of Everest before. There’s something to that.

Niall and Louis work their way up together. Niall keeps up an easy conversation with Louis the entire time, and while Louis’s watch claims that it’s actually taking them longer to climb than the pace him and Liam had set on their first go-through a few days before, Louis swears they’re speeding through it.

It isn’t long before they reach the vertical wall they have to climb over to get to Camp 1. Louis goes first -- the same way he has the entire climb -- and he turns to look back at Niall halfway up.

“Don’t look down when you’re doing this, Ni,” Louis says, because obviously they’ve reached the point of the climb where it’s completely acceptable to start calling each other by nicknames. “The ground is pretty far away from here.”

Niall’s pale Irish skin turns a shade paler, and Louis bursts into laughter as Niall glares up at him. “You didn’t have to fucking remind _me_ of that,” Niall groans.

Louis tries his best to keep a straight face as he finishes ascending, but it’s difficult when he can hear Niall muttering beneath him, “Climb mountains, they said. It’ll be fun, Niall. Refreshing, they said. Fucking idiots.”

 

***

 

Harry isn’t at Camp 1. His group has already moved on. Louis knew that would happen, but it’s still strange to stop and rest at Camp 1 and not have anyone to talk to about all the details of the day’s climb. Louis supposes he could chat with Willie and Andy while they sit around sipping tea and relaxing before the next portion of the climb, but Willie and Andy aren’t as good of listeners as Harry. Sure, they’ll talk to him on a base level about how the day has gone, but they don’t laugh at things Louis finds funny and nod along seriously at things Louis thought were annoying the same way Harry does. It’s as if Louis and Harry, though they’ve climbed separately on every climb so far, are on the same wavelength. Talking to Harry helps Louis unwind, and Louis practically aches for him in what feels like a silent few hours at Camp 1.

It’s fitting then that the next portion of their climb, the 800 meters between Camp 1 and Camp 2, goes through a portion of Everest called the Valley of Silence. The valley is one of the easier sections of Everest, and it’s far less dangerous or technical than the Khumbu icefall. Although they cross crevasses pretty frequently, they aren’t doing so while wedged between threatening blocks of ice. It’s pretty wide except for one part nearer to the end where they have to trek to the far right side of the path in order to cross a crevasse that separates the lower part of the mountain from the upper portions of Everest. Climbing through the valley is more like a scenic walk than a challenging hike.

In his studies of Everest before the expedition, Louis has taken to calling this area “The Breakers” because the terrain looks like there are sets of snow waves all lined up at the breaking point right before they roll. It gets really hot there during the day because of the way the sun reflects off the surrounding mountains, so they all strip down just to their long-sleeve undershirts and waterproof pants as they prepare to finish the day’s climb.

They wait to leave Camp 1 until late in the afternoon so it won’t be as hot, and the wait is torturous. Louis is itching to get out of there. He feels good and strong as if he was never sick in the first place, but he knows the extra 800 meters he’ll gain in elevation by the end of the day is more taxing on the body than it seems.

Niall tags along close to Louis yet again even though they have what feels like all the space in the world in the valley as opposed to the tightly walled-in portion of the Khumbu. They chat about nothing, mostly, until somehow Harry comes up in conversation. Louis must make a face because Niall laughs at him.

“What’s going on between you two anyway?” Niall asks, a bright smile still plastered across his face.

“What do you mean, ‘What’s going on between us’? We’re climbing Everest together. We’re on the expedition. Isn’t this something you should be aware of as our fearless leader?”

Niall laughs and swats Louis’s arm with his climbing pole. “I’ve heard there’s a Harry on this trip, yeah,” Niall admits. “I don’t know. You two are different together. You’re like magnets or something, always together and always looking for each other whenever you’re not.”

“I resent being compared to a magnet,” Louis informs Niall. He increases their pace as they round another crest of snow.

Niall trails behind quietly for a few moments before speaking up again. “You know what I mean though,” he says. “Anyway, I think it’s cool to find someone who really cares about you up here. It helps, I think.”

“It helps?” Louis asks. He’s starting to feel the burn in his lungs as they ascend higher, the thin air making breathing surprisingly more difficult than one would think.

“Yeah, like if you have someone who’s looking out for you in a different way than a group leader or something, it’s … I don’t know. I think it’s the kind of moral support you need to make it up in the death zone.”

Louis has read a lot of books and blogs written by people who summited Everest, but nobody Louis has read about has ever talked about falling into some kind of relationship on the mountain -- if he can even call what him and Harry have a relationship in the first place.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I’m climbing totally alone,” Louis points out. “We’re all on this expedition together. And wouldn’t it hold you back to worry about someone else while you’re up in the death zone?”

That sounds callous, Louis knows, but it’s the truth. People get left for dead in the death zone -- the area of Everest above 8,000 meters -- all the time because something minor went wrong and helping others that high up is too much of a toll on other climbers’ bodies. It’s a different world up there.

The summit of Everest stands at 8,848 meters high, nearly the cruising altitude for a commercial jet. A person can’t exist for longer than 48 hours in the death zone because the air is too thin and the human body’s functions can't work with that little oxygen in the air, so the body shuts down for every second spent above 8,000 meters. People can’t think straight up there. They can’t digest food. They move slowly. Their brains don’t work properly, and that all happens when a climber, exhausted from the trek up the mountain, is trying to climb the final few hours of a month-long journey. It’s important to make quick and accurate decisions up there, but it's also a place where the weather is unpredictable and the atmosphere is too thin to breathe.

People get left for dead up there because it’s nearly impossible for any climber to help anyone else; the effort involved in assisting someone else is too much of a toll on the body. It’s impossible to even take the bodies of the dead off of Everest because the mountain is too high for helicopter rescues above Camp 1. Climbers don’t have enough energy to carry the bodies back down the mountain. Sometimes people die because the climbers passing by are too exhausted and worn down to notice a climber in trouble is still alive.

Everest isn’t a place where you go to make friends. It’s not a place for a fun vacation. Climbing Everest is a race — a race against time and a race against death. High altitude pulls out all the tricks to win. Everything goes perfectly on Everest, or else you die, so when there’s such a small line between life and death, it’s best to just look after yourself and no one else.

But Niall doesn’t seem to think it needs to be so solitary. He frowns at Louis and holds an arm out to signal they should pause for a few minutes. He’s breathing hard, but only slightly harder than Louis.

“Once you’re past Camp 4, well, climbing Everest is kind of shitty sometimes,” he says. “For every minute you’re up there, you’re just thinking about how to get off the mountain alive. Reaching the summit is amazing, sure, but that’s only, like, five percent of the total amount of time you spend in the death zone. It’s pretty horrible up there, so it’s just … I don’t know. If you have someone up there that you care about, it kind of makes the time go by faster.” Niall starts walking again and Louis trails along beside him. “Plus,” Niall says, “It gives you something to live for.”

“What, so you think I’m going to die up there?” Louis asks, hoping his laugh hides the slight bit of fear creeping in. “Thanks, mate.”

“Well yeah, you’ll probably be the first to go,” Niall jokes. Louis crosses his eyes at him and sticks out his tongue. It’s one of Louis’s most intimidating faces.

“What was it like last time you climbed?” Louis asks. “When you summitted?”

Niall puts his head down as he trudges along through the snow. “Well, a guy died the day before we summited so that wasn’t really ideal.”

Louis’s breath catches. “Seriously? What happened to him?”

“He, uh, he ended up with HACE,” Niall says. Louis has read a lot about HACE, or high-altitude cerebral edema. It’s a condition which occurs at high altitudes where the brain swells because the body can’t cope with being so high up. It can come on suddenly and can hit anybody, even the most experienced climbers. Once it strikes, the only cure is to get down the mountain as fast as possible. If not, it’s fatal.

Louis doesn’t know what to say. “Did you know him?” Louis asks.

“Nah,” Niall says. “He was on a Brazilian expedition. He was supposed to be a pretty good climber too. But then he got kind of loopy and when the guys on his team tried to get him to go down, he got combative. He thought they were attacking him because his brain was so fucked up he wasn’t processing things right. Eventually they had to just give up on him and leave him there to die. His body is still up there. The half of their team who didn’t climb that day went up later and covered him with a Brazilian flag or something.”

Louis looks up at the mountain ahead of them and tries to picture it, a Brazilian flag draped over a lump of what used to be a man somewhere up there. It’s hard to believe that Louis is currently climbing that very same mountain where that man died.

“Don’t worry though,” Niall says. He looks at Louis, and for one of the few times on the expedition thus far, Niall isn’t smiling. “We won’t let that happen to you. Harry definitely won’t let that happen to you. Can you imagine? Harry wouldn’t let anyone die on his watch.”

“Yeah, I mean, obviously Harry is actually God and can decide who lives and who dies,” Louis says.

Niall laughs and Louis cracks a smile back at him. They’re making decent time, and they’re already about three-quarters of the way through the valley, but Niall’s story has a ball of concern forming within Louis. What if they’re getting too high, too fast and Louis ends up with HACE?

Or worse yet, what if something went wrong with Harry? What if he’s dying right now in Camp 2 and Louis is just leisurely making his way up there with no clue at all that anything is wrong? Louis swipes a hand across his sweaty forehead.

“Hey Ni? How quickly are you able to find out whether something’s gone wrong?”

“What do you mean? Like with another group or with ours?”

“With ours. Or anyone I guess. Just in general. How fast can you find out?”

Niall unzips a pocket in his snow pants to reveal a walkie-talkie. “I have a radio on me at all times. It works anywhere on the mountain, and the second something happens, people have to alert me,” Niall says.

But that’s not true. Louis thinks back to the first climb with Liam when Niall gave them the radio. “You gave your radio to me and Liam that one time, remember?” Louis says. “When we climbed that first day?”

Niall zips his pocket back up. “Yeah, but I had a back-up one that day. I can’t go anywhere without a radio. It’s part of my contract.” Niall looks sideways at Louis. “You can’t worry about that stuff, Lou. It’s a distraction. Just think about what you have to do for the next five minutes only and you’ll be fine.”

Louis isn’t worried about himself though, he’s worried about Harry. And in that moment, it’s easier to worry about Harry than it is to really think about _why_ he’s worrying.

 

****

 

Louis’s welcome to Camp 2 comes in the form of a full-body tackle. If not for the smell of spice and sweaty boy and a hint of juniper, Louis would have no idea what hit him, but as it is, he knows how Harry smells and so he just laughs a little into Harry’s hair as they lie in the snow because Harry refuses to let go.

The cold is starting to return at Camp 2 now that the sun is setting and Louis is wasted from exhaustion, his muscles screaming from a day full of climbing and the ever-increasing elevation. Harry is a warm weight on top of him, and if not for the bed of rocks beneath Louis, he supposes he could simply fall asleep right here. But the feeling of Harry’s smile against his neck is enough to help him forget how tired he is.

“Someone’s a little happy to see me,” Louis finally manages once both of them stop laughing, and Harry scrambles so he’s up on hands and knees looming over Louis. His expression schools into something serious as he tucks a strand of Louis’s hair behind his ear.

“I just thought,” Harry starts, “like the whole day all I was thinking was just, you know, what if something happens to Louis? What if you die or something and you’re still mad at me and I never get a chance to apologize, or like make it up to you or --”

“You realize I’d have to be mad for that to happen, right?” Louis interrupts. He pushes Harry off of him so he can get to his feet.

“But you are mad,” Harry reasons. He grabs Louis’s wrists and drags him across the rocky campsite and toward a tent. “I know it. I know it’s my fault. I said maybe you shouldn’t climb up with the first group and I know you wanted to, like, I don’t know, climb first and stuff.”

“Harry, really, it’s--”

“Shh. I’ve thought about this all day. It’s important,” Harry says, so Louis just raises his eyebrows and follows Harry into the tent, dropping his gear onto the floor before sitting down on one of the cots.

“I was just worried because you were sick that maybe you wouldn’t be, like, up to a fast pace? And I didn’t want you to go too far or too quick and get hurt and then ruin the whole trip because like, I know how important it is to you. And I just thought … well I shouldn’t have, is the point, I should’ve just--”

“Harry,” Louis tries, but Harry just swats at Louis’s raised hand and continues on.

“It’s just I had a bad feeling? It’s hard to explain. But I get these feelings about things and I got this bad feeling about today and the climb and you have to listen to these things because maybe the feelings are like, omens or something, and what if they’re right, you know? So I had a bad feeling and I thought maybe you shouldn’t climb with the first group but I never should have --” Harry’s speaking quickly, barely stopping to breathe, and Louis just can’t let him continue on like this, so he stands up and covers Harry’s mouth with his hand.

Louis means to say something, he really, does. He means to tell Harry that he isn’t mad anymore, that he gets it, that he just wants to be here now with him, but Louis can’t do much of anything because Harry’s breath is warm and soft against Louis’s palm and his eyes are so big and sincere that Louis just wants to melt into him, to reassure him that it’s okay, it’s all going to be okay.

It’s as if Louis has no control over his body or his brain. He’s powerless to stop himself as he leans in to rest his forehead against Harry’s. Harry just looks down at him and Louis brings a free hand up to run through Harry’s hair, still greasy from a day spent under a hat.

“Shh,” Louis says as his hand slips away from Harry’s mouth. He gazes at Harry’s lips, rosy and little wet from how worked up Harry had gotten, and Louis wants to bite them just because. He wants to hear what sound Harry would make if he did. But instead he just looks back up into Harry’s eyes, green and warming, and it’s all the permission Louis needs. He doesn’t stop to think about it, just tilts in closer and kisses Harry softly, just once, just a little bit.

Harry doesn’t move, but his eyes flutter shut and he whines, low, nearly a growl. It isn’t a _no, don’t do this._  It sounds much more like a _please keep going_. So Louis can’t help himself from crowding back in close and kissing Harry again, capturing Harry’s lower lip between his own as Harry wraps an arm around Louis’s waist and presses a hand into his lower back, urging Louis closer.

“Lou,” Harry whispers, his eyes still shut. Louis shakes his head, the tip of his nose nudging against Harry’s.

“S’ok, Harry. It’s ok.”

It’s as if that’s all Harry needs to hear, because he tugs Louis down onto the cot so that Louis is draped over Harry’s body. Harry kisses him hard, demanding, assertive in a way that’s so unusual for him. Louis’s mouth opens against Harry’s and then it’s a mess of tongues and teeth. Louis bites a little and Harry groans in response, his hips thrusting up against Louis’s.

This is when Louis should pull away. A voice at the back of his brain says, _get out while you can_. But Louis can’t. He’s under some kind of spell created by the way Harry’s lips move against his, the way Harry’s tongue snakes into his mouth. It’s all sparks and warmth and Louis doesn’t think about anything other than the way Harry feels underneath him, the way Harry smells faintly of the juniper that’s always burning at base camp. It cocoons around both of them like an oversized, thick blanket on a snowy day.

It’s safe here in Harry’s arms. Safe and easy and comfortable and Louis never wants to leave.

So he doesn’t.

 

_April 19: Rest day at Camp 2_

 

The accommodations at Camp 2 are all shared, so it’s not weird that Louis spends that entire night in the tent with Harry. They emerge the first afternoon only to steal bowls of rice and lentils from the dining tent then feign exhaustion so the others don’t think it’s weird when they race back to their own tent. They eat quickly, as if it’s a nuisance, then push the cots together and trade kisses and tales from the climb up earlier that day. Louis conveniently leaves out all his deep talks with Niall, instead telling Harry that they’re doomed because their expedition leader is scared of heights.

Harry tells him about Liam trying to stretch the pace constantly and wandering away, and how Jesy kept yelling up ahead for him and threatening to call down to base to inform Eoghan that Liam wouldn’t stop abandoning the group. Harry said he took a lot of photos too, especially once he got to Camp 2 and Louis wasn’t there, because apparently the views from Camp 2 are amazing. Louis wouldn’t know. Harry’s film has to be developed before Louis can see the photos because Harry insists on using archaic technology. And Louis never got a chance to the take in the view firsthand because Harry whisked him away to the tent before Louis had a second to sit and look around. Harry promises to let Louis out of bed in the morning to see the view.

So that’s what they do when the sun rises. Harry insists that Louis keep his eyes shut when they step out of the tent, but Harry doesn’t trust Louis so he blindfolds him with a scarf and then leads him out slowly. Camp 2 serves as Advanced Base Camp, the main launching point for summit attempts, so it’s one of the bigger camps on the mountain and their tents are surrounded by ones from other expeditions.

Louis assumes Harry is leading him away from the cluster of nylon homes, but he has no way to ground himself other than by the sound of rocks crunching under his boots.

Harry finally comes to a stop and lets go of his hold on Louis’s wrist to intertwine their hands instead. “Okay, three, two, one,” Harry counts, then he pulls off the blindfold and Louis has to blink a few times to get used to the light before he’s able to take it all in.

Harry’s so, so right. They’re stood in a spot which overlooks the valley below. The Himalayas surround them in a U-shape, and it feels like Louis and Harry are on a stage surrounded by a stadium audience of mountains. It’s hard to see the annoying parts of climbing from where they’re located. Instead, everything looks breathtaking, an incredible landscape built out of snow, ice, and rock that has been there the very beginning of time itself, enhanced by the golden glow of sunrise.

“This is brilliant,” Louis says, breathless. He turns to look at Harry, who is grinning back at Louis instead of admiring the view.

“Yeah, it is,” he says, and then he leans in and kisses Louis quick and soft.

So that’s a thing they’re doing now then. Louis pulls Harry into a hug and looks out again at the view. He knows Everest is a bad place to start a relationship, but maybe as long as they don’t talk about this, don’t have anything set in stone, Louis can do this. Because after all, kissing Harry feels really, really good. He doesn’t want to stop doing that any time soon. He doesn’t even know if he could. Now that they’ve started, it just feels so natural to Louis, like of course he’d kiss Harry good morning and of course Harry would give him a kiss when they’re in front of one of the most amazing views in the world.

But if they talk about this, that means it’s a thing. And once whatever is between them becomes a thing, then Louis will have to answer some tough questions to himself about what it means to get involved with Harry during what is supposed to be a solitary mission.

So Louis feels like he’s living on borrowed time in this honeymoon at Camp 2. When it’s just the two of them in the cot with their sleeping bags zipped together, kissing and touching and learning each other’s bodies, Louis can’t bring himself to think about anything other than how good this feels.

What Louis doesn’t realize is that danger can feel good when it first sneaks in. It’s not until everything is on the line when danger reveals its true face.

 

_April 21: Recuperation at Base Camp_

 

The entire group earns a lie-in after two days spent up at Camp 2 followed by a climb down through the Khumbu Icefall at night on the 20th.

Now that they’re back in base camp, it’s back to solo tents, and it’s strange to wake up alone for the first time in a few days. Louis and Harry are proper next-door neighbors again instead of tent-mates, and that means there’s no sleepy-eyed, dimpled boy smiling over at Louis when Louis sits up, yawns and stretches as much as the tent will allow. But once Louis finally really wakes up, he can hear Harry hacking away next door. Harry had been coughing a little bit as they climbed down from Camp 2, but it sounded nothing like this deeper rattle.

Louis unzips his tent to find himself in the midst of a storm -- the snow is coming down sideways the way it does around Christmas-time back home. He braves the wind and the bite of the snowflakes against the bare skin of his face as he treks over to Harry’s tent and knocks on the flap.

“Haz, you okay in there?” Louis calls.

Harry clears his throat from somewhere inside and coughs again. “Yeah,” he finally croaks. “Come in.”

Harry is sitting up in bed, his cheeks flushed, his eyes watery and his iPad turned facedown on his lap. Harry’s headphones are plugged in as if he was watching something, but he scoots up into a seated position and pats at the cot, inviting Louis to come sit. Louis eyes the mug of tea on the crate next to Harry’s cot.

“Did you go out in this weather?” he asks. He can just picture it now, a coughing Harry fighting his way through the snowstorm to the dining tent because of course this had to be the one morning when the sherpas weren’t waking them up with tea deliveries. They were supposed to stay away to let the climbers sleep in as late as possible.

Harry shakes his head. “No,” he says, his voice deep and raspy. “Tenzing brought tea for me. He said he heard me during the night. Says there’s some special herbs or something in there that should make me feel better.”

“What a lad, that Tenzing,”  Louis says. It’s not the first time the sherpas have helped someone without being asked, and it definitely won’t be the last. Sometimes it feels like the sherpas are treated more like mules on Everest than as equals. They’re the ones who go out as soon as the weather clears up enough for the spring season to fix the rope and set up the ladders so hundreds of tourists can climb the mountain. They carry all the oxygen up the mountain, all the way to Camp 4 so the climbers don’t have to shoulder the load. Sherpas set up the tents at the high camps, carry tourists’ bags and gear and sometimes even the tourists themselves, all so people can return home to tell the world about how they climbed Everest without mentioning the sherpas who made the entire climb manageable in the first place.

But then there are people like Harry, who brought extra treats along on the expedition despite the luggage weight requirements solely so he could give something to the sherpas. Harry always thanks the sherpas when they bring him something. He’s constantly offering to help them carry things before they set out for the day, and the sherpas always just smile and say “No, no Mister Harry. Don’t worry,” fondly while Harry tries to convince them to let him take “even just one little thing” from their load. Harry hangs out with the sherpas too sometimes, and he never acts like there’s a language barrier or class differences between them.

Harry is a saint, really, and Louis should maybe start to spend more time with the sherpas, he realizes now that he’s thinking about it. He tries to say “thank you” to the sherpas as much as possible, but how much do repeated thank yous really mean? At some point, they become more of a ritual than a true expression of gratitude.

Harry coughs again, breaking Louis out of his reverie.

“Are you coughing anything up?” Louis asks. He tries not to sound concerned, but chest infections are both common on Everest and serious.

“A bit,” Harry says. “It’s mostly clear though so I think it’s probably fine. I get like this sometimes when I climb.”

Louis, like all climbers, has also fallen victim to persistent coughs, but he never sounds as deep and junky as Harry currently sounds unless it’s something more than a simple cold. And a cough that’s worse than normal could spell the end of a summit bid because it’s best for a climber to be in perfect health given how taxing the death zone can be on the body. “Maybe we should pay a visit to the med tent,” Louis suggests.

Harry just frowns though and snuggles back down into his sleeping bag. “Don’t want to get up,” he whines. “You should just, like, cuddle me until I’m better. I’m cold and it’s winter out there.” He sticks his lower lip out in an extra dramatic pout.

Louis laughs and crawls in beside Harry, not even thinking about the possibility of sharing germs. If Harry was going to get Louis sick, he reasons, he’d already been exposed enough to catch it. “What are you watching?” Louis asks as he zips the sleeping bag shut around them.

“Um. Nothing, really. I was just bored. We don’t have to watch it,” Harry says, but he scrambles to keep Louis from turning the iPad over.

“Aw, are you embarrassed?” Louis teases. He bats Harry’s hands away. “Give us a look. Come on.”

Louis turns the iPad back on and presses play. It takes a few seconds into the film before Louis figures out what the movie is, but when he does, he looks up at Harry in surprise.

“Is this _Love Actually_?” he asks. Harry bites his lip and nods, a blush reddening his cheeks even more. “I love this movie!” Louis says. “Wait, we have to start it over. Give me one of your earbuds.”

Harry frowns at him in confusion. “Are you having a laugh?” he asks.

“A man never jokes about _Love Actually_ ,” Louis says as he starts the movie over. It’s true. _Love Actually_ is one of Louis’s favorite Christmas movies, next to _Elf_ of course.  

But Harry just stares, dumbfounded, at Louis.

“It’s not polite to stare, Haz,” Louis says as he props the iPad up on Harry’s stomach.

“You seriously like Love Actually?” he asks, then slips into a coughing fit. Louis just pauses the movie until Harry’s done then hands him the mug of tea.

“Of course I like Love Actually. It’s a classic. That kid learns how to play the drums all for a girl. He’s such a lad.”

Harry’s face bursts into a huge grin. “I think you’re my soulmate,” he says, still looking at Louis instead of the movie.

This time, it’s Louis’s turn to blush.

They spend most of the morning in Harry’s sleeping bag, watching Love Actually and then playing a game of Scrabble in which Harry probably cheats because he insists “zinger” counts as a word, which nets him a billion points he doesn’t even need because he’s already beating Louis, 363 - 72. The snow is quieting down, so they decide to venture over to the dining tent for lunch.

Niall and Liam are both there already, playing cards and eating stew while Niall’s radio keeps going off.

“How’re you feeling, boys?” Niall asks, but he doesn’t look up at them, instead frowning at his radio. “You okay, Harry? Tenzing told me you’re sick.”

“I think it’s just one of those nagging coughs, you know?” Harry says. Louis gives Harry a strong dose of side-eye, but he’s not sure Niall catches it.

Liam scoots away from Harry even though he’s sitting on the other side of the table. “Are you sure you shouldn’t see the doctor?” he asks. “You don’t want to spread something like that around.”  

Harry shrugs. “I’m sure it’s fine. I always get, like, coughs and stuff when I’m climbing and it’s never been a problem, so.”

 _“We’ve got Bill strapped in and we’re bringing him down. Over,_ ” Niall’s radio crackles.

Louis takes a big bite of stew. His appetite has returned now that he’s back in Base Camp and no longer sick with that stomach bug. “Busy day on the mountain today?” he asks.

“The snow’s wreaking havoc up there,” Niall says, his voice low and serious. “There was an avalanche up on Lhotse. Pretty much every decent company got their climbers down last night because of the weather reports, but the cheaper companies up there apparently thought they’d ride it out in Camp 3. A bunch of people got hurt. Hopefully nobody’s dead but there are two people missing.”

“Holy shit,” Louis says.

“Are they able to start looking yet?” Harry asks. He pushes his stew away.

“I don’t know, Niall says. “Eoghan’s helping out with a couple of the other companies to try to coordinate stuff from Base Camp. All I’ve been hearing is about the injured people they’re bringing down. I’m switching shifts with Eoghan at two to help out."

“If there’s anything we can do, we’ll help. Right, Lou?” Harry says. Louis gulps and nods.

It turns out there isn’t much they can do to help aside from sit with Niall and Eoghan and wait. It’s as if they’re paralyzed down in Base Camp, unable to ascend to Camp 3 fast enough to help in any way, and it’s strange for Louis to be so stuck and useless on a mountain. Avalanches are a problem on most high mountains, but Louis has never been on an expedition when one struck.  Everest is his first big mountain climbing experience. He climbed Denali, but Denali’s summit is 6,194 meters high, nearly 1,000 meters lower than Camp 3 at Everest -- which isn’t even the highest camp, never mind the summit.

Everyone on their expedition spends most of the day in the dining tent with Niall and Eoghan, listening and waiting. Liam tries to go over to the med tent to help out. It turns out he did scouts when he was younger and has some first aid experience, but he returns pretty quickly and says the tent is overflowing. The doctors didn’t want anyone there who didn’t need to be there. As much as Louis wanted Harry to get checked out there earlier, there’s no sense in him seeing a doctor when they’re busy like this.

By dinner, most of the seriously injured climbers have been brought down. But the two missing people are still missing, and once night falls on Everest, the chances of a missing climber making it through the night alive are slim to none.

Slowly the small group of climbers gathered in the dining tent starts to filter back to their own tents, and Louis only barely manages to convince Harry to leave Niall and Eoghan to it so Harry can get some rest and hopefully get rid of his cough. They go back to Harry’s tent and climb into his bed together, both quiet as Harry curls up and rests his head on Louis’s chest.

Louis absentmindedly runs his fingers through Harry’s curls as he stares at the roof of the tent and wonders what it must be like to be lost on the mountain, surrounded by mounds of snow, no sense of how far you are from your group or a fixed rope or a hidden crevasse, completely and totally alone. He tries to commit the feeling of Harry’s soft hair to memory as he tries not to think of what it would be like to have gone missing -- or, even worse, if Harry went missing and Louis couldn’t find him.

Harry eventually brings him out of it, moving before Louis even realizes to plant a kiss right in the center of Louis’s chest. Louis looks down at Harry, who keeps his focus on Louis’s skin as he inches up and drops a kiss on Louis’s shoulder before looking up at Louis. Harry’s green eyes are full of sadness, like he’s already given up on the poor souls up there. It makes Louis want to keep Harry as close as he can while he still can, and Harry must feel the same way because he sighs and leans in.

Their kiss is urgent from the start. It’s as if they have to work out the strain of the day through their bodies, and a kiss isn’t enough. Louis needs to feel Harry’s skin against his own, needs to feel Harry’s heart beating against his fingertips. He yanks at Harry’s shirt and it doesn’t take long for Harry to get the message, as he sits up and tears off his top then makes quick work of Louis’s too before dropping back down into another scorching kiss.

All Louis can think about is Harry, holding Harry, touching Harry, wanting to be closer. It’s almost as if climbing Everest has become totally intertwined with being with Harry, that this experience is nothing so far without Harry, and Louis just needs to get closer. Louis grabs at Harry’s arse and Harry moans in response, thrusting his hips roughly into Louis’s. Harry’s hard, so hard, and Louis wants desperately to know what he feels like, what he looks like.

Louis flips them over none too gracefully then scoots down before Harry gets a chance to say anything. He slips his fingers under Harry’s waistband and looks up to get Harry’s approval. Harry just nods, rushed, his eyes slightly glazed and his cheeks pinking up.

Louis scrambles to strip Harry of his joggers and pants. Harry’s gorgeous, because of course he is. He just lies there stretched out on the cot beneath Louis, almost passive, his body on full, unashamed display. Louis can hardly breathe because he gets to have all of this, Harry and his perfect cock, hard and flushed and lying along his hip.

Louis strokes him once before he leans down and sucks the head into his mouth. Harry squeaks as if he wasn’t expecting it, but when Louis looks up, Harry’s head is tilted back and his chest is heaving, a blush working its way across his sternum.

Louis keeps his attention on the head of Harry’s cock, sucking and then tickling along the crown with his tongue, and he delights in the way Harry’s overcome, the way Harry reaches out to grab a fistful of Louis’s hair. Louis moans around Harry’s cock, and it just seems to drive Harry wilder, his knees bending up to make more room for Louis between his legs.

Louis finally slides his lips further down Harry’s shaft, taking Harry as deep as he can and letting Harry’s cock nudge into the pocket of his cheek when he can’t take any more.

“Yeah, Lou, that’s … yeah,” Harry breathes, slipping his fingertips over the bump Harry’s cock is making against Louis’s cheek. Louis doesn’t know why that’s so hot, but it is. His hips grind against the sleeping bag without any thought on his part, and he skates his teeth over the skin of Harry’s shaft, not biting so much as testing to see what Harry will do.

Harry responds brilliantly, his legs falling apart and almost limp to the bed as he squeezes the back of Louis’s neck.  

“Ah, don’t stop,” he moans.

Louis isn’t planning on it. He licks and threatens to bite and pulls out every trick in his arsenal until Harry is sweating and writhing underneath him, his toes curling against the nylon of the sleeping bag.

“Gonna come. Lou, stop. I’m gonna come,” he whines.

Any other time, Louis would just ignore him and keep going. He’s not averse to the taste of come, but he wants to see Harry when he falls apart. So Louis sits back on his heels and takes Harry in his hand. He strokes once, twice, and then Harry’s whole body tenses as he spills onto his stomach. Louis is transfixed, one hand gripping Harry’s thigh as he trails his other hand up to trace his fingertips through the pools of Harry’s come.

He wonders what it would look like if he could come right there, too, if they mixed together on Harry’s stomach, so he doesn’t even think, just shoves his pants down and reaches for his own cock as Harry lies there, eyes shut as he tries to slow his breathing.

“You’re so fucking hot, Haz,” Louis says. Harry turns his head to the side and peeks up at Louis from under his eyelashes, then pulls at his arm until Louis leans close. Harry kisses him then. It’s slow and dirty and Louis can’t do much more than pant against Harry’s lips as he jacks himself off until suddenly he’s coming too against the skin of Harry’s stomach.

He collapses next to Harry and pushes his sweaty hair off his forehead, struggling to catch his breath. Harry rolls over to kiss the tip of Louis’s nose. He looks ridiculously smug, so Louis pokes at his dimple.

“What’s that smile for?” Louis asks, a grin playing on his own lips. He’s surprised but a little delighted at how rough his voice is.

Harry shakes his head at Louis. Some of his hair tickles across Louis’s cheek. It’s all too adorable for words.

“Nothing,” he says as he smiles wider. “I just like to sit and admire what you’re like.”

Louis isn’t sure what to make of that. It’s ridiculously close to “I just like you,” and Louis doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say back, so he pushes at Harry and then climbs on top of him and bites his shoulder.

“Ow!” Harry yelps, but he’s giggling along with Louis. “What are you trying to do, eat me?”

“You wish,” Louis says as he gives Harry his most devilishly handsome grin, the one he uses when he wants to get his way.

Harry, the fool that he is, just nods seriously. “I do,” he agrees.

Nobody can fault Louis for the way Louis has to squish Harry’s face and wrestle him until they topple out of the cot altogether. Their fall causes half of the items in Harry’s tent to come crashing down around them, but they’re both too lazy to do anything about it. It’s Harry’s fault, Louis reasons, that they fall asleep there on the ground. He makes it impossible for Louis to pull away.

 

 

_April 24: Start of second rotation on the mountain_

 

 

The weather delays any more trips to the mountain for a full 48 hours as the sherpas head up to repair the fixed rope damaged by the avalanche and search for the missing climbers. There is still no sign of them -- no bodies, no tracks, no stray coats or axes.

But death and disaster are part of climbing Everest, and there would be no achievement if there was no danger. So even though the fate of the missing climbers remains unknown, they still must go on.

Eoghan determined that their expedition should wait another day before their second rotation on the mountain, a four-day climb which includes overnights at Camps 2 and 3. They won’t go on to the summit -- this is still a training climb, so they’ll come back down after the night at Camp 3 -- but it’s still a rotation on the mountain, and Louis will beat his personal altitude record by 1,000 meters if this trip goes according to plan. The weather should be fine, Eoghan says, and they are low enough that they should be able to get back down quickly if anything happens, but Louis can’t help but think of the missing climbers as he treks through the Khumbu Icefall again. Those climbers passed through this same route, healthy and strong, just days before only to never climb back down it.

It’s amazing how fast things change on Everest. That’s all Louis can think about as he scales the now familiar ice blocks of Khumbu, of how people start to climb this mountain healthy and whole and come back dirty, spent, exhausted and frostbitten -- and that’s only if they’re lucky. It’s all too real how serious this mountain is now that two people probably died, how every step Louis takes could be leading him one step closer to a needless death.

The image of Louis’s youngest siblings, little Ernest and Doris, flashes through his mind. They’re barely old enough to remember Louis years from now if he never comes back from Everest. He hadn’t thought about it too much when he left them at the airport. He was too focused on soaking in their baby-toothed smiles and giggles as he twirled them around and held each of them a little too tight, growling like a bear the way he always does when he hugs them goodbye.

Maybe he should have held them longer, spent longer memorizing their faces. Maybe he should have spent more time with them and less time in the gym before he left.

Louis doesn’t notice that he’s off pace until he unhooks himself from the ropes following the final ladder and looks back up to see Niall’s concerned face. Niall started off behind him in this section. He didn’t even see Niall pass.  

“You feeling alright, Lou?” he asks. “Need a few seconds for a water break?”

“Nah,” Louis says. Best not to stop when his mind is like this. “Just thinking too much.”

Niall seems like he wants to say something else, but then Harry comes up behind them and unclips himself from the ladder. He rests a hand in the small of Louis’s back like it’s nothing, like they’ve been doing it forever, and Niall just looks at the two of them together and nods.

“Ready to climb on?” he asks Harry, and Harry smiles big and easy right back at him.

“Well I heard that’s what we’re here to do, so I guess we should,” he says, beaming with pride at his own sense of humor.

Louis should laugh. That’s how this normally goes. Harry tells a terrible joke, Louis laughs, and Harry gives him a dimpled smile because he’s so pleased that Louis went along with it, but Louis just can’t manage it.

Harry gives Louis an odd look as they trudge on, but he doesn’t say anything about it, and for that, Louis is incredibly grateful.

 

***

 

The day’s climb goes exactly the way their previous trek up the mountain went; they spend most of the daylight hours resting at Camp 1 then make the long sunset walk up through the Valley of Silence to their night’s resting place at Camp 2. Every part of the climb is textbook. Nobody is too tired, no one more out of breath than usual. The acclimation process seems to be working just as it should, so there’s no reason for Louis to feel so uneasy.

Harry and Louis are kind enough this time to grace the group with their presence for dinner before they retreat back to the privacy of their shared tent.

Louis is still stripping off layers of climbing gear when Harry corners him.

“What’s wrong?” Harry murmurs as he wraps his arms around Louis’s waist from behind and rests his chin on Louis’s shoulder. “You seem off today.”

Louis can talk to Harry about anything. He knows that by now, but it feels like it’s impossible to talk to him about this.

“Nothing,” Louis says. “I’m just tired.”

Harry straightens up and backs away just enough to give Louis room to step out of his snow pants.

“You’ve been weird all day,” Harry says. He folds his arms across his chest like a stern parent.

“It’s nothing, Harry.” Louis focuses on stowing his gear properly so it won’t freeze overnight. He can hear Harry dragging the two cots together and arranging the sleeping bags so there’s room enough for both of them to zip in together. Harry’s silent as he does it though, which isn’t a good sign. Harry only gets like that when he refuses to be distracted from whatever it is that he wants to talk about.

Louis delays as much as possible, but eventually he has no other choice but to climb into bed with Harry. He leans in for a kiss, thinking maybe sex is a good way to distract Harry, but Harry isn’t having any of it. He agrees to just one quick, closed-mouth kiss before scooting away.

“Louis,” Harry says.

“Harry.”

Harry just frowns back. It’s a lost cause.

“Fine.” Louis sighs and sits up, hugging his knees to his chest and looking at the ceiling of the tent as he speaks. “I’ve just been thinking about those climbers, right, the ones from the storm? And it’s just --”

“Lou, you can’t let that --”

“No, I’m not like ... I just,” Louis takes a deep breath to give himself time to think about how he wants to word what he says next. “It made me think about a lot of things, yeah? About why I came and what happens if I don’t make it back. And I thought about, like, my littlest sister and brother. They’re so young, right, and if I never came back, I don’t know if they’d even remember me years down the line. Like they’d know I was their brother, but they’d only have like five years of memories of me.”

Saying all of that feels as if someone has just lifted a load of Louis. It was a load Louis didn’t even realize he was carrying.

“Oh Lou,” Harry says. He scoots back closer to Louis and wraps an arm around his shoulders. Harry is soft and warm, and normally Harry is the little spoon, but it’s kind of nice to be the one cradled in Harry’s arms for a change.

“Lou, you have to try not to think about that. It doesn’t do you any good, you know? You have to just, like, try to focus on the positive and what’s in front of you in the moment.”

“No, I know,” Louis agrees. “I just. I mean it’s kind of dumb that I’m even here. Why did I even come, just to prove to people that I could? That a Tomlinson could do something cool for once?”

“Well you kind of have to be a little bit dumb to decide to climb Everest, I think,” Harry says. “Like at some point you should probably say to yourself, ‘Hey, this is really dangerous and expensive and stuff, and maybe I should just, like, become an architect or something.’”

Louis cocks an eyebrow. “An architect, Haz? Is that your secret dream? You want to build --”

“Shh,” Harry says, holding a finger up to Louis’s lips. “I’m trying to make a point. Just that, like, at some point, we all make a stupid choice to put our lives in danger, but that’s just part of why climbing this mountain is such an accomplishment, right? Because most people aren’t dumb enough to try.”

“You’re really making mountain climbing sound very appealing, Haz. Well done.”

“Lou,” Harry whines, and he makes a move to wrestle Louis onto his back, but Louis’s too quick. He pushes Harry over instead and splays himself out on top of Harry, resting his chin on Harry’s chest.

“Tell me then, Sir Harry of the Seven Summits. Why are you here if it’s so dumb?”

Harry looks down at Louis with laughter in his eyes. “You really want to know?” he asks.

Louis feigns disinterest and rolls away. “Actually, now that I think about it, no. I just ask people questions I don’t want answered because I think it’s fun.”

“Heyyy,” Harry groans. “I’m trying to be serious.”

“Ok, then seriously tell me. Why are you here?”

Harry pinches his lower lip and tugs at it as if he’s deep in thought. “Well,” he starts, then clears his throat. “I don’t know. This is my last summit for the Seven Summits, so I couldn’t not try,” he says.

“Yeah, you’ve said,” Louis tells him. Harry just frowns back at him.

“But if this wasn’t the last summit, like if this was my fourth or fifth or something, I probably wouldn’t have come.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just … I don’t know. When I started climbing, like, seriously climbing, most of my mates were in uni or on gap years or whatever. But now, it’s like everyone is finding a girlfriend or a boyfriend or getting a dog or finding a job they really like and I’m still just … off, climbing mountains and stuff.”

“I thought you like doing that,” Louis says.

“I _did_ , or I used to,” Harry sighs, then looks meaningfully at Louis. “But I don’t know, maybe I’d want to have a boyfriend.”

“A boyfriend?” Louis asks, feigning surprise. He ignores the way his heart races. It’s not like Harry’s actually asking Louis to be his boyfriend. Just a boyfriend. It could be anyone. But thinking about Harry with someone else isn’t a pleasant thought, so Louis just pokes at Harry’s dimples to distract himself.

“Or maybe I could get a dog. I’d like a dog, I think,” Harry says as he strokes his non-existent beard in deep contemplation.

Louis laughs and tousles Harry’s hair. “You’re absolutely _barking_ ,” he says.

“I see what you did there,” Harry says with an overly satisfied smile, and when Louis won’t stop laughing at him, Harry kisses him quiet.

It’s only a while later, long after they should be asleep, when a half-awake Louis finds the courage to ask Harry one last question.

“Do you really think you don’t want to climb mountains anymore?” he whispers. He’s spooning Harry properly this time so he can’t see Harry’s face but he can feel it when Harry nods.

“I think I’m done after this,” Harry says through a yawn. “But, for what it’s worth, I’m already glad I came.”

“Why? Louis asks. “We haven’t done anything yet.”

“Yes we have,” Harry says, and then he’s quiet until soon enough, his breathing starts to even out. Still, Louis is pretty sure he understands what Harry’s saying.

 

 

_May 4: Return to Base Camp_

 

 

After their rotation on the mountain, the entire group gets a week down in the valley to recover and gain back some strength at a lower altitude. Then it’s back to Everest for the climb to the summit. They spend the week at a lodge in the village of Gorak Shep, which is nothing more than a few buildings in the middle of nowhere down the valley from Base Camp.

The air is thicker there, the weather slightly warmer. Louis had hated his time in Gorak Shep on the way to Everest. Back then, he thought it was dirty and isolated, and there was a stomach bug going around so a lot of people had spent the days there vomiting. But after a month on Everest, Gorak Shep feels like a five-star hotel.

Harry and Louis share a double room with twin beds jammed up against the walls. There’s nothing like the feeling of sleeping on a real mattress after four weeks of sleeping bags laid out on canvas cots. They spend the entire week sharing a bed and using the spare as a spot to store their bags. While their room isn’t much bigger than their tents back at Base Camp, it still feels like a palace with real walls and a wooden floor and an actual roof over their heads.  

They make a bucket list of things they want to do before they return to Everest. It’s an exciting one, full of items like “sleep for seven hours straight” and “shower two days in a row.” They stay fit by going for hikes each day, and the entire group bonds at night with bonfires just outside of town, laughing and talking until late into the night around a fire as if they aren’t in the middle of what seems like a desert made of snow. One night, they venture outside starkers to build snowmen just because they can.

Life in Gorak Shep is so easy compared to Base Camp, where it feels like the weight of the climb ahead is pushing down on them every day. All Louis can think during his week in Gorak Shep is how nice it feels to be able to breathe. It’s almost like a honeymoon. He spends every day in a haze of Harry. He wakes up to slow kisses and shares smiles and laughs with Harry over breakfast. Then they go on some kind of adventure every day -- Harry insists on making anything an adventure, even if it’s just doing laundry -- and they fall asleep every night wrapped up in each other.

Gorak Shep feels as if it gives Louis a hint of what real life with Harry could be like, and now that Louis has a clue about how much better “real” life is when he shares it with Harry, he doesn’t want to leave it behind.  

On their last night in the village, Harry packs up both of their belongings while Louis provides “moral support” by lounging on the other bed and fidgeting with the bracelet Harry gave him that first night in Base Camp. Louis has one last thing on his bucket list that he wants to do. He’s wanted to do it since the first time he kissed Harry, but this week away from base camp has just made it more of a pressing need for Louis.

The thing is, this could ruin everything. Maybe Louis is reading Harry wrong. Maybe Harry really doesn’t want to get anything serious out of his relationship with Louis. Maybe this is just a bit of fun for Harry while on the mountain.

Maybe there’s a reason Harry and Louis haven’t done more than exchange blowjobs, a reason Harry hasn’t pushed for more.

And while blowjobs are nice, Louis wants more. He desperately needs to be closer to Harry, as close as he can possibly be, and that need is starting to become blinding. It’s hard to even think about anything else, especially when he spends nearly every second of the day with Harry, hearing Harry’s laugh, watching the way Harry’s smile spreads, first to his dimples and then to his eyes. And yet there’s still a wall there between the two of them, a frontier they haven’t crossed, and Louis doesn’t know what could happen once they do.

He doesn’t realize how quiet he’s being until Harry sits down next to him on the bed and cuddles up close, kissing the top of Louis’s head.

“You okay, babe?” Harry asks, his eyes narrowed in slits of concern.

“Mhm,” Louis says. He doesn’t look up at Harry because he’s sure that Harry will be able to see the coils of uncertainty in his face.

Harry pulls Louis into his lap, manhandling him in a way that reminds Louis of just how much bigger Harry is than him. Louis can’t be blamed for the way he has to slip his palms under Harry’s shirt just to feel the muscles of Harry’s stomach and chest. Harry’s muscles are so nice, is the thing, and it feels like a crime not to touch them.

“What’s up?” Harry asks. He tucks a strand of Louis’s hair behind his ear. It’s getting long, growing quickly in the mountain air.

Louis looks down and fidgets with his fingers. He needs to just ask, and if Harry says no, he says no and the climb up Everest will be substantially more awkward and weird and uncomfortable, but still. This shouldn’t be such a big deal. Louis is 25 and has had plenty of sex in his lifetime, but this is with Harry. It’s different for some reason.

“Lou? You’re making me worried,” Harry says. Louis can’t have that, can’t deal with a worried Harry, so he sighs and buries his face in Harry’s neck where it’s warm and comfortable and substantially less scary.

“Listen, you can, like, say no if you don’t want to do this or whatever,” Louis says, “but like, well. There’s kind of one last thing I want to do while we’re here, and we don’t _have_ to do it, but it’s been so nice all week and I just thought --”

“Lou,” Harry says. “You can ask me anything, yeah?”

Not this, Louis thinks. This could ruin everything.

But Harry doesn’t get that. He slips a finger under Louis’s chin and lifts so that Louis has to look Harry in the eye.

“I know we haven’t done this yet, but I kind of want you to fuck me.”

There. Louis’s said it and it’s out there and Harry can run away from him now, tell him he didn’t mean to take it this far, but Harry doesn’t do that.

Instead his eyes light up and a broad grin stretches over his face. He leans in to kiss Louis, long and deep. “Yeah?” Harry murmurs against Louis’s lips when he finally pulls away. “What took you so long?”

Louis feels like he can breathe again, like a weight in his stomach just lifted because Harry can’t stop kissing him and Harry wants this too, wants to sleep with Louis for real, and it feels like Louis’s wanted this since back when he still thought Harry’s name was Henry.

Harry can’t strip out of his clothes fast enough, ripping his top off and shimmying out of his pyjama bottoms until he’s left in only the beaded necklace that matches the green-and-black bracelet on Louis’s wrist. Harry’s already half hard, his cock flushing a dusky shade of red against his pale hip. Louis loves it, loves the way it takes so little to get Harry going and loves how responsive Harry’s cock is. Louis can hardly help himself as he ducks down and sucks the tip of it into his mouth, the slightly salty taste of skin and precome feeling like home on his tongue.

Harry moans low and brushes Louis’s hair back and out of his face so he can see better. It sparks something in Louis’s gut to know that Harry wants to see Louis’s face as Louis sucks him off, and Louis squeezes his eyes shut to try to stop himself from getting overwhelmed.

Louis moves lower, skating his lips down Harry’s shaft so he can mouth at Harry’s balls, just a step beyond gentle to let Harry know he means business.

Harry’s hips jerk up in response and his stomach tenses as he tries to hold himself together, and all Louis can think about is how Harry’s stomach will look when he fucks into Louis, how those muscles will clench together when he pushes in.

Louis groans and pushes his own pyjama bottoms off so he can grab himself and stroke in time with the way he’s sucking off Harry. But Harry doesn’t let Louis carry on like that for long. He pulls at Louis’s shoulder until Louis crawls back up Harry’s body, lining their hips up and grinding down because he can, because he wants to feel how hard Harry’s cock is against his skin.

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry whines, and then he’s easing Louis’s shirt up and over his head until Louis is naked too. Louis leans down to kiss Harry as dirty as he knows how. He groans into Harry’s mouth when Harry reaches down and squeezes at Louis’s arse, pulling Louis’s hips down between his own.

“Do you have lube?” Harry asks as he skims a finger down the crack of Louis’s arse. Louis is pretty sure he does, pretty sure he hid it somewhere strategic in case Harry said yes, but he can’t really focus given the way sparks of arousal light up everywhere Harry touches, making his stomach clench in the best way possible. Louis bites down on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry squeaks, sitting up so quickly that Louis falls back into the wall. Harry’s hair is a mess, curls sticking up everywhere, and his eyes are dark and serious.

“Lube, Lou,” Harry says, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. Lube, yes, lube so that Harry can fuck him just the way he said he would, just the way Louis’s been dreaming about for weeks. Where did he put the lube?

“Hid it,” Louis says as he closes his eyes and tries to think. Hid it. Hid it. Harry starts to get up to look, and that’s what sparks Louis’s memory, how he hid it while Harry was packing so Harry wouldn’t see.

“No, it’s here,” Louis says as he slides his hand between the bed and the wall, and that’s where he feels it, the small sachet of lube taped to a condom he packed just in case. He holds it up like a trophy and Harry nearly tackles him, grabbing the lube out of Louis’s hands as he pushes Louis to lie down flat on his back.

“And a condom too,” Harry says like Louis deserves a trophy for his efforts. “Smart boy. My smart, smart boy.” There’s a thrill in Louis’s chest from hearing that, hearing Harry claim Louis, and he pulls Harry down for another kiss because Harry is way too far away from him to be saying things like that.

Harry strokes the inside of Louis’s thighs, sure and confident, to get Louis to spread his legs for Harry. Louis just keeps kissing him, can’t stop even while Harry tears open the lube and squeezes some out over Louis’s hole, the cold of it a small shock against Louis’s heated skin.  

Harry opens him up slow and deliberate, working just his pinkie in for what feels like forever before adding a second finger. He’s so sure, somehow, seems to know just the right way to touch Louis because Louis is quivering and sweating, nearly ready to come just from this, just from a few fingers. He can hardly even focus on making sure Harry is enjoying this too.

“How do you want it?” Harry whispers from somewhere near his ear. All Louis can process is that Harry’s fingers are gone. He needs them back, needs something to fill him up and put him back together.

“Like this,” Louis breathes out. “Just want you now.”

Harry’s eyes squeeze shut like he’s in pain, but he can’t be because the next thing Louis knows, Harry’s slicking himself up and then pushing in, gentle but steady. There’s no pain, just the pressure of it, and Louis welcomes it by scratching his nails down Harry’s back.

“God Louis,” Harry breathes out once he’s all the way in. He rests his forehead against Louis’s, the tips of their noses nearly touching. “You’re so … you’re just so _good_.”

Louis laughs. He can’t help it. It’s just so _Harry_.

“Hey,” Harry whines. He thrusts forward once, just a little bit, just to show Louis what he can do. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis says between a giggle. “It’s just, you do talk some shit sometimes.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks, and then he moves for real. He hits a spot in Louis that makes Louis’s stomach curl in need, and Louis grabs Harry’s shoulder for something to hold onto.

“Do that again,” Louis says, a little surprised by how breathless he sounds.

And Harry does. He fucks into Louis over and over again until Louis forgets where they are, forgets about Everest, forgets about the people in the room next door who can probably hear the bed squeaking and Louis’s moans. All he can process is the way his orgasm builds, collecting into his stomach and then down to his groin. He can’t stop touching Harry, grabs at every inch of skin he can reach because he just needs Harry closer, closer, closer.

Louis’s so close and Harry must be too with the way his hips speed up, slamming into Louis with a sharp smack, smack, smack. Harry grips Louis’s wrists and holds them flat against the mattress then bites along Louis’s jawline, almost like he wants to crawl inside of Louis. That’s what does it. That’s what has Louis coming completely untouched all over his belly and chest.

“Fuck,” Harry says as he looks down. He gazes for a second at the come spattered across Louis’s skin, seemingly in awe, then groans and fucks into Louis hard once, twice, three times as he comes, his entire body flushed and sweaty.

Louis can barely muster the energy to move as his orgasm fades. He has no idea how Harry manages to get up and toss the condom in the tiny bin at the foot of the bed, doesn’t know where Harry finds a wet towel to clean Louis off with. He doesn’t even move until Harry is back in bed beside him, pulling the covers over them both before wrapping an arm around Louis and pulling him close to his chest.

“I think you’re kind of amazing,” Harry whispers, his voice all scratchy. His eyes are closed, dark eyelashes fanning out over his pinked up cheeks.

“Mmm,” Louis agrees. “I try.”

Harry snorts and hugs Louis closer but he doesn’t say anything else. It’s not long before his breathing starts to even out.

Louis can’t fall asleep even though he’s dead exhausted. It’s like he has to soak in every moment he has with Harry, like he’s already scared of losing Harry.

He doesn’t know why he says it, the short sentence he whispers to Harry when he’s sure Harry’s asleep, the string of words he’ll come to regret later. It just tumbles out of his mouth.

“I want to do this forever with you.”

 

 

_May 7: Night before the final climb_

 

It’s strange how fast a place can start to feel like home. That’s what it feels like when they return to Base Camp on May 5, like they’re coming home from a vacation. But home at Base Camp doesn’t have the same comforts that a real home has, and their “welcome back” moment is the news that a blizzard is scheduled to blow through the next day, meaning their final climb’s start date gets pushed back a few days to May 8.

Louis assumes that means Harry and him can carry over that honeymoon atmosphere they had in Gorak Shep, but Harry is oddly focused on only the climb ahead. He packs and re-packs his bag for the expedition and spends hours looking at photos of different spots on the mountain. He says he’s “visualizing” the climb, but with the way his fingers play with his lucky beaded necklace, it looks more like he’s praying.

It’s a different Harry than the one Louis thinks he knows so well, and Louis isn’t sure exactly how to handle this Harry. So he spends a lot of time trying to sit quietly in Harry’s tent and not bother him, and whenever he feels like he’s intruding on Harry’s visualization techniques, he leaves to try to spend some time with other members of their expedition team.

That’s why, on the night before they leave for the climb, Louis is hanging out with Niall, Liam and Jesy in the dinner tent while Harry stays back in his own tent, re-packing his bag for the 17th time. The problem with the dining tent, though, is that there’s a whiteboard there where Niall and Eoghan drew a version of the mountain and highlighted all of the places where they will stop to sleep or eat or load up on oxygen canisters. It’s all planned out and laid out in front of him, the adventure that will be the biggest thing he’s ever done in his life, and it hurts Louis’s head to think about it too much.

Jesy seems a little skittish too. She didn’t eat much dinner and she hasn’t forced anyone to do a stupid dance yet, which is completely out of the norm for her. But Niall and Liam are as relaxed as ever. Niall lounges in one of the chairs with his guitar, picking out a slower version of Miley Cyrus’s “The Climb” despite Jesy’s protests against the song choice.

“Aren’t there any other songs about mountains you could have picked?” she asks, arms folded over her chest.

Niall shakes his head, a solemn look drawn across his face. “Nobody gets to the heart of mountain climbing like Miley,” he explains.

They’re all quiet as Niall strums a few chords. Niall is good at guitar, and even though Louis doesn’t remember all the words to the verses, he recognizes the bridge to the chorus. Liam taps his foot to the beat, then looks at Niall before he starts to sing.

“There’s always gonna be another mountain,” Liam starts, a rich tenor filling the tent. Of course Liam is a good singer. He’s good at everything.

“I’m always gonna want to make it move,” Niall adds. His voice is rockier than Liam’s, but he’s a decent singer too. Their voices combine well as they sing “Always gonna be an uphill battle. Sometimes I’m gonna have to lose.”

Louis wishes they wouldn’t sing that line. It makes him think about the map of their real life climb and the climbers who went missing weeks ago and haven’t been seen again. So he draws attention to the final lines of the chorus instead, schooling his voice into a childish squawk so no one can compare his singing to Niall or Liam’s.

“Ain’t about how fast I get there. Ain’t about what’s waiting on the other si-i-i-ide --”

“IT’S THE CLIMBBBB,” Jesy joins in, belting the line out as loud as she can. Louis laughs -- they all do -- and for a second he can forget about their plans for the next day.   

But then Niall starts playing a different song, one Louis doesn’t know, and it seems like nobody else knows it either. They sit quietly, listening to Niall play and getting lost in their own thoughts. It’s Jesy who breaks the silence.

“Is anyone else fucking terrified of tomorrow?” she asks as she gets up to grab a protein bar from the basket by the entrance to the tent.

Niall nods. “You bet,” he says. He puts his guitar down and gestures for her to grab him a protein bar too. “But if you’re not nervous to climb this mountain, you’re not ready.”

“I feel okay about it,” Liam says, shrugging. “You can always turn around if something goes wrong. You just have to keep your head on, right? Think clearly.”

Niall chuckles as he unwraps the protein bar. “Mate, it’s physically impossible to keep your head on at 8,000 meters.”

“You’re just that brave, eh Payno?” Louis says. Typical Liam. Everything always has to be the easiest for him.

“Clearly Liam’s not ready then,” Jesy says.

“No, I’m ready. I just don’t see the point of getting all upset about it,” Liam says. “The more emotional you get, the bigger chance there is of screwing up. As long as I know my body and know my limits and follow the plan, I’m controlling everything I can. The rest is just … if it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen anyway.”

It sounds logical enough to Louis. After all, he’s the one who was worried about getting too close to anyone on the mountain in case he’d have to change his normal climbing tendencies to help them and end up causing himself to screw up. But it also sounds kind of ignorant. How can anyone know their limits if they have no fear?

Nobody ever sets limits for themselves if they aren’t worried about what happens if they push beyond that limit. And on Everest, pushing beyond your limits could lead to your death. How could Liam not be scared of death?

“Even Harry’s scared,” Louis says. “He’s packed his bag a billion times. Packed mine more than once too.”

“That’s adorable,” Jesy says. She punches Louis lightly in the arm. “You two are adorable.”

“I’d like to think we’re more rugged and handsome, but okay,” Louis says. Niall has the nerve to laugh at that.

“I better be invited to the wedding,” Niall says. “I am your guide. It’s practically thanks to me you guys are together in the first place.”

Louis groans. Clearly mentioning Harry was a terrible idea. “We’re not getting married,” Louis moans. “And we’re not even proper together, I don’t think. How can we get married if we’re not even together?”

“Oh you’re together alright,” Niall says. “My room was next to yours in Gorak Shep. I’d know.”

Louis can feel his face heat up, but he’s a grown man and so is Harry. He should have nothing to be ashamed of.

“They had real beds,” Louis points out. “You wouldn’t want us not to put a real bed to good use, would you?”

“Right, then. I’m calling it a night,” Liam says as he pushes his chair back. “See you all bright and early tomorrow morning.”

He’s up and out of the tent before anyone can say another word. Jesy gives it a moment then breaks out into a full-body laugh.

“Bit of a prude, that Liam,” she says.

“Bit of a prick,” Louis corrects.

“Aw hey, don’t be so hard on him,” Niall says. “It’s a big day tomorrow. The guy is probably bricking it on the inside. Plus, his room was on the other side of Louis and Harry’s. I’m pretty sure he’s had a rough few days.”

Louis pulls his beanie down over his face. “Is there anyone who didn’t hear us?” he asks.

“Probably not,” Niall says. “But hey. At least someone around here is getting laid.” Niall gets up and starts to tidy up the table, gathering the various cups and napkins people from their group left out earlier. “We should try to get some rest though. Big day tomorrow.”

Jesy and Louis get up to help him. Louis sweeps the floor of the tent while Jesy wipes the table down, and together the three of them have the tent spic-and-span in no time.

“Hey Niall,” Jesy says as they’re about to head out. “Do you really think Liam is nervous?”

“Everybody is nervous when they climb Everest,” Niall says. “And Liam -- I think he just doesn’t want to admit it. He cares way too much about what people think of him. Why else would he constantly be trying to prove he’s the best at everything?”

“Doesn’t mean he has to be an arse about it,” Louis says.

“I meet a lot of people,” Niall says. “I’ve worked with a lot of climbers. Liam is the type of guy who just wants people to like him, but he ends up overcompensating. He tries too hard, but he’s a good guy, deep down. Remember when he went to help out at the med tent the day those climbers got lost? If anything does go wrong these next few days, I’d bet Liam would be one of the first ones to try and help.”

Louis isn’t so sure about that, but Niall’s mind is clearly made up on Liam. So Louis just says goodnight and retreats back to Harry’s tent.

Harry is already asleep, one side of the sleeping bag left open for Louis and a pile of photos of Everest scattered across the covers. Louis gathers them up and stacks them neatly on the crate next to the cot. He changes into his pyjamas as quietly as he can and then slides in beside Harry.

Louis is the type of person who struggles to sleep when he’s excited about anything. He used to stay awake for 48 hours over Christmas because he could never fall asleep before his birthday on Dec. 24 or on Christmas Eve. But here, on Louis’s final night at base camp, Louis falls asleep as soon as he's in bed beside Harry.

 

 

_May 8-9: Camps 1-3_

 

The first day of the final summit push goes just as it’s supposed to go. They wake up early and climb through the icefall, inching across the aluminum ladders over bottomless crevasses just as carefully as they had the first time they climbed Khumbu. Those ladders are far and away the worst part of Everest, but at least Niall is more scared of them than Louis is. He’s not a total chicken.

Harry is unusually quiet through the icefall except for his incessant coughing. It’s the same cough Harry’s had ever since the day that he was really sick, but he swears over and over that he’s fine.

“It’s nothing,” he assures Niall both times Niall asks him about it. “I promise.”

Louis thinks Harry’s just focused on the climb, but he’s equally quiet when they rest at Camp 1 after making it through the ice fall. Louis expected to spend the early afternoon relaxing with Harry or plotting the next section of the climb with him, but Harry says he wants to try to nap, so Louis has to hang out with Jesy, Andy and Liam instead.

Harry doesn’t have much to say when they climb up to Camp 2, either, and he barely finishes his dinner before hurrying off to bed. It’s common for climbers to lose their appetites on Everest. The altitude isn’t good for digestion, but in the past, Harry always tried to eat anyway.

So Louis is plenty concerned when he follows Harry back to their tent. He lets Harry unpack a bit and get ready for bed, hoping Harry will take the chance to say _something_ , but Harry’s silent.

“What’s wrong?” Louis finally asks when Harry tucks himself into bed. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m fine,” Harry says. He rolls on his side so his back is to Louis. That’s not totally unusual. Harry likes Louis to cuddle him and Louis is normally happy to oblige, but Harry typically stays awake longer than this and doesn’t refuse to talk to him.

“Is it your cough?” Louis asks. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine, Lou,” Harry repeats but he sounds annoyed, like Louis is asking too many questions.

Louis isn’t sure what to do with himself. He’s tired too, but his mind is too awake for him to try to go to sleep. There has to be something wrong -- Harry is normally an open book even if he does talk circles around whatever point he’s trying to make.

“You know you can tell me if anything’s wrong,” Louis says.

“There’s nothing to tell you,” Harry says. But he still doesn’t turn around to face Louis. He doesn’t try to keep any form of conversation going and doesn’t react while Louis tries to chatter on about the day anyway. He pays no attention at all to Louis even though Louis can tell Harry isn’t asleep. Harry snores, his silence proof that he simply doesn’t want to talk.

Some people have to be told when others are angry at them, but Louis has always known on his own whenever he’s managed to get on someone’s bad side. So given the way Harry’s acting, Louis knows why Harry is so silent.

He’s mad at Louis. Somewhere, somehow, Louis fucked this up the way Louis has always messed up any good thing he’s ever had going for him.

Louis can’t think of anything specific he could have done to upset Harry other than what he said back in Gorak Shep, that stupid comment about wanting to “do this forever.” Did that scare Harry off? It was probably too soon to say something like that. As much as Louis feels like he’s known Harry forever, they’ve only really known each other for a month.

And Everest isn’t real life. Everything is about the climb here. It’s all temporary, everything from the housing down to the toilets. There’s life on Everest in the spring for the climbing season and then it’s gone for the rest of the year. Louis was foolish to think that a relationship born in that type of environment is something that could last. He should have known better.

He can’t bear to get in bed with Harry, not now that he knows this. So he goes back to the dining tent instead. He figures it will still be busy because it’s not like Louis was back in his tent that long, but to Louis’s surprise, Liam is the only one still hanging around the dining tent. He’s sitting there alone, re-lacing his boots.

“I thought you went to bed,” Liam says when he sees Louis walk in.

Louis slumps into one of the fold-up chairs by the table. “Couldn’t sleep,” Louis says.

“Why not? Are you feeling okay?” Liam asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Louis says. “Just thinking a bit too much and Harry’s asleep so I figured I’d hang out here.”

“Ah,” Liam says. He goes back to loosening the laces in his boots and puts some kind of jiggly packet in them.

Louis should go back to his tent. There’s nothing to do here, and Liam and Louis aren’t exactly friends. But the thought of staring at Harry’s back makes Louis’s stomach flutter in the wrong sort of way, so he stays put.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks, gesturing toward the boots once he can’t stand the silence anymore.

“This?” Liam says. “They’re just little things to put in my boots to protect my feet. I get blisters really easily and sometimes I get too high up the mountain to take care of them fast enough, so I use these fancy insert things my mum found for me so I won’t get so many.”

“That’s nice of her,” Louis says. “Me own mum would do anything to get me to stop climbing. No way would she buy me anything to help me climb.”

Liam laughs. “Oh my mum hates that I climb. She says she cries every day that I’m gone. But this way she thinks she’s taking care of me, sort of, even though she can’t be here.”

“I wish my mum was like that,” Louis says. Then he thinks about it for a moment.

“Or maybe not,” he decides. “I’d hate to think my mum cried every day while I’m away. But as long as I swear to her when I’m home that I’ll never leave again, she mostly leaves me alone about it.”

“How many times have you left again anyway?” Liam asks.

“A bunch,” Louis admits, smiling sheepishly. “But she doesn’t need to know that I’m planning on leaving again until I actually do. Plus it’s not like I know most of the time. It takes a while to save up for these trips.”

“You’re telling me,” Liam agrees. “That’s why I have to make sure it’s worth it. It’s a waste to come all the way out here and not summit.”

“Mhm,” Louis nods. He tries not to think about that much, about what it would be like to go home empty-handed after spending all of his savings to fly out to Nepal for two months just to climb a mountain. “Hopefully we’re lucky.”

“We’ll need more than luck,” Liam says. “But I reckon you’ll summit. You’re one of the strongest guys in our group. You deserve it.”

“You think so?” Louis asks. He can’t help but be a little incredulous. Liam always does better than Louis on all of their climbs. He’s faster and he hasn’t gotten sick, not even once.

“Course,” Liam says, easy, as if he didn’t even have to think about it. “You always look happy when you climb. Even when it’s hard, you still seem like you’re having a good time. I probably look like I’m dying or something the whole way up.”

“You realize you’re the best climber in our group, don’t you?” Louis says. It’s all he can do to keep his jaw from dropping.

“I’m not the best,” Liam says. “Like I know I can handle it and all. But sometimes I feel like I’m faking it, like I’m fooling everyone into thinking I’m better than I am. It’s not like it’s easy for me.”

“It’s not easy for anyone though,” Louis says. “Niall even. He’s our guide but he’s fucking terrified of heights.”

Liam laughs at that, slapping his knee as his eyes crinkle. It’s the first time Louis has looked at Liam during the whole trip and thought “this guy might be friendly.”

“I swear it,” Louis says. “He bricks it every time we have to cross the ladders.”

“And he’s the guy who’s supposed to take us to the top of the tallest mountain in the world,” Liam says, his tone a little questioning. “Right, then.”

Louis shrugs, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “I’d trust him, though, wouldn’t I. He’s a good lad, Niall.”

Liam nods a little, eyes on his boot. “Yeah. I trust him too. But I don’t know,” he says, trailing off.

Louis crosses his arms over his chest. “You don’t know what?”

Liam keeps his gaze low, considering, before looking back up at Louis. “It’s really up to us at the end, isn’t it? Whether we make it to the top? We’re the ones who have to know how to push ourselves, what we need to do to make it up there. At the end of the day, everyone else is just a distraction.”

“How do you mean?” Louis asks. The way Liam puts it makes mountain climbing sound more lonely than Louis would like.

“You have to be worried about yourself if you want to make it, I think,” Liam says. “You have to pay attention to your body, notice every little thing that could maybe become a problem before it even happens. And I don’t see how you can do that if you’re spending the entire time thinking about other people.”

It’s the sort of statement that Louis would have heartily agreed with a month ago, but it’s crazy to him now. Louis fingers the green-and-black bracelet that’s been on his wrist since that day Harry helped him when he got sick. He doesn’t understand how he’s supposed to climb to the summit without thinking about Harry, where Harry is and how he’s doing and what it’s like to experience this together, what Harry’s face will look like when he reaches the top of the highest mountain in the world.

But maybe Louis already blew it. Harry’s mad at him; he won’t even talk to Louis. And if Louis has to lose Harry in order to have the best chance of summiting, he’s not so sure reaching the summit would be worth it. It just wouldn’t be the same without Harry.

 

 

_May 10: Preparations for Summit Day_

 

Life at Camp 4 is absolutely miserable. They might as well be living on another planet, because the ground is completely barren of anything that looks like it was ever living. The only reminder that they’re still on planet earth is the ice and rock scattered around the area. Their entire group even looks like they’re on the moon with everyone is in full down snowsuits. Most of their group is hooked up to oxygen, too, their faces hidden behind climbing goggles and the hoses of the oxygen masks. The wind blows through at a constant hurricane force, making it hard to hear anything over its angry roar.

Louis’s resting on his cot in a tent with Harry, but his lungs burn and his heart races as if he’s running a marathon. He knows this is how he’ll feel for at least the next 24 hours. This is as close to space a human being can climb, and that’s just the way the human body reacts to the elevation. It could possibly get even worse as he climbs to the summit, but that doesn’t stop the idea of standing on the summit from dangling ahead like an unopened present on Christmas Eve.

They’re supposed to be resting the afternoon away before they head out at midnight for the start of the summit push. Harry falls asleep the second they reach their tent. He’s been coughing even more ever since they reached Camp 3, and while everyone is starting to get run down, nobody sounds as bad as Harry. But Harry keeps saying he’s fine, and he’s the one who’s summited the highest peaks on six different continents, so who is Louis to say Harry is wrong? Plus, Harry still isn’t really talking to Louis, so he’s not about to push it with Harry’s cough. It’s awkward enough in their tent anyway.

Louis tosses and turns for a while on his cot. It’s normal not to be able to sleep much at their altitude; that’s just another side effect of oxygen deprivation. So Louis keeps his oxygen mask on and tries to suck in as much of it as he can while passing the time looking at the photos Harry brought along to better visualize the route. He feels a little guilty using something of Harry’s when Harry is mad at him, but Louis needs something to keep him occupied, and Harry’s asleep anyway. It would do Louis good to focus on the climb ahead.

Their group laid out the summit schedule at Camp 3 that morning. The first chunk of the summit push from Camp 4 will be one of the most mentally tough parts of the climb up. They’ll spend four or five hours walking up a seemingly endless stretch of snow and ice in total darkness until they reach their first checkpoint, an area known as the balcony. That’s where they’re supposed to stop for a short rest, eat a snack and switch out their oxygen canisters for fresh ones.

Then it’s back on fixed rope to climb one by one up slabs of rock until they reach the south summit. The sun should be rising by that point, which will be nice, but once they get there it’s a pretty narrow path along the side of a steep ridge. One wrong step and it’s a terrifying and deadly drop down thousands of meters. Niall probably won’t be a fan of that section.  

Louis is looking at the picture of the south summit and trying to figure out a route to take where he won’t be tempted to look down when Harry wakes up, ripping off his oxygen mask as if it’s strangling him. He coughs so hard his whole body shakes and sits up to spit. Nobody ever said Everest was the most romantic place in the world.

“You okay?” Louis asks, because that’s what any normal person would do when a friend stirs into consciousness by hacking up a lung, even if that friend happens to be angry with the person.

But apparently Harry doesn’t think that’s a normal reaction, because he whips around to glare at Louis. “Why do you have to ask me if I’m okay every five seconds?” Harry asks, his voice scratchy and harsh. “If I say I’m fine, I’m fine, alright?”

Louis raises his hands like he’s surrendering. “Hey now. You were coughing. I didn’t mean anything bad by it.”

“Yeah? Well maybe you should just leave me alone,” he says.

“What’s wrong with you?” Louis asks, because he can never keep his mouth shut the way he should. “You’ve been weird ever since we got back from Gorak Shep. You won’t talk to anyone, you’re coughing worse than ever, you’re yelling at me. I don’t get it. What did I do? Why are you being like this?”

“I’m not being like anything,” Harry hisses. “I’m just trying to climb this mountain and get home. That’s why I came here. That’s what I’m going to do.”

“Okay,” Louis says. “I never said you weren’t.”

“Yeah well you look at me like I won’t. You look at me like I can’t do it or something. Like you know me well enough to judge whether or not I can summit. You think you know me just because we spent a month together? Like just because we’ve been … we’ve been _something_ the last month that it means whatever’s going on between us is more important to me than climbing this mountain?”

“Harry, that’s not what I --”

“Well it’s not. It doesn’t matter. You don’t even know if it’s real, you and me. The only thing that’s real is reaching the summit, okay? It’s the only thing that matters. The _only_ thing.”

Louis isn’t sure whether it’s the altitude or whether he’s just missing something, but nothing Harry is saying is making any sense. The only thing that’s getting through to Louis is the _you don’t matter to me_ message, the _we don’t mean anything_.

“Jesus, okay,” Louis says.He's shaking, barely able to contain his rage. All he wants to do is yell right back at Harry, but he can hardly make sense of what Harry’s saying, so he’s clueless when it comes to thinking of something to say back.  

“That’s all you’re going to say?” Harry asks. “Okay?” He brushes his fingers through his hair and attaches a new oxygen canister to his mask.

“What do you want me to say, Harry? That you’re right? That I don’t know you at all, don’t mean anything to you and that I’m stupid for thinking that I do? You’ve made it perfectly clear to me how you feel, and apparently my thoughts on the subject wouldn’t matter to you anyway because they have nothing to do with the summit or Everest so it’s all bloody fucking irrelevant."

Harry doesn’t say anything, so Louis just continues on. “Maybe I was being stupid thinking that the past few weeks meant something,” he says. “But you seemed plenty happy to go along with it until now, so I don’t understand why all of the sudden, now that we’re almost at the top, you had to wait until now to tell me it was all a fucking distraction from the only thing that’s actually important to you. Thanks, though, for the heads up. Now I know I’ve wasted pretty much all my time here.”

Harry just shakes his head and gets back in bed, securing his oxygen mask back on his face. He’s clearly done talking.

Louis is filled with a silent fury, trembling with it even. Maybe this whole trip was a waste. Maybe it was a stupid idea to try to make something of himself, to try to climb Everest. He fucks up everything at home and now he fucked up everything here too. Louis suddenly wishes he never even came.

It feels like nothing has ever hurt as badly in his life as this fight has, but Louis can’t leave. The tents at Camp 4 are all full, and he can’t sleep outside in the wind and cold and thin air. He’s stranded here with Harry even though Harry just made an absolute fool out of him.

So Louis does the only thing he can think of in that moment. He rips his gloves off, pulling the sleeve of his jacket up despite the cold. Louis can’t see if Harry’s watching, but he hopes he is, because he tears the green-and-black bracelet Harry gave him off his wrist, yanking at the string to make sure it breaks.

The beads scatter to the floor. Louis can’t hear them over the howl of the wind, but he’s pretty sure he can feel them as they hit the floor because as they do, he feels small little bits of himself break as well.

Louis doesn’t sleep that afternoon, but he pretends he’s asleep anyway. It’s the only way he can ensure that he won’t have to deal with Harry Styles at all.

 

 

_May 11: Summit Day_

 

They set out at midnight with two other expedition groups, lining up one by one to form a snake of climbers ready to leave the highest camp on the mountain. The only light comes from the headlamps each climber wears. Louis can’t see farther than the person in front of him, and that person just so happens to be Harry because Niall doesn’t know they’re fighting and thought it would be a bright idea to keep Harry and Louis together.

They both clip themselves into the safety rope the sherpas fixed earlier, and soon enough, the snake starts moving up the slope out of camp.

The climb takes hours, all in total darkness, and each step is harder than the last. It’s semi-steep, and at this altitude, moving is like trying to push a military tank forward. Their group is just barely inching forward. Nobody talks, not even Niall. The only sound is the chop and clink of ice axes and crampons, and the smattering of coughs from various climbers in the line.

Louis is still full of anger from the night before. He tries not to look up at Harry, but he has to pay attention to where he’s stepping, and doing so means a part of Harry’s purple down climbing suit is always in his line of sight. Louis would kick at the snow if he had the energy. It’s extra exhausting to be enraged in the death zone of Everest.

They climb and climb and climb. It’s so monotonous that Louis isn’t sure whether they’re even making progress or not. It’s not like he can see anything on either side of the path, so he doesn’t even have any landmarks to measure the climb by. It feels like days pass before a hint of light starts to glow on the horizon, although Louis knows it can only have been a few hours.

When that first band of light begins to show, Louis thinks it’s just his mind playing tricks on him. The sun will never rise, he thinks. He’ll be stuck in this nightmare on top of this mountain forever. But the light gets stronger, and after a bit more trudging through the snow, the mountain begins to appear, first a foggy image and then a ghostly white gleam.

Louis is too locked into the rhythm of huffing out a breath, lifting his leg, taking a breath in and putting his leg back down again to dare to try to speak, but if he could, he’d call out to Niall. He’d ask if this would all end soon.

It does end soon after that, at least for a little bit. The light of morning is still trying to break through the night’s darkness when they reach a tight area of semi-level terrain. It’s the balcony, one of the first landmarks on their journey to the summit and the first pit stop for the day.

Niall promised they’d reach the balcony just as the sun starts to rise, so it looks like they’re right on time. He had set a strict turnaround time for the team: reach the Hilary Step, the last section of hard rock-climbing before the summit, by 11 a.m. or else they must turn around without summiting. He said if they reach the balcony by dawn, they should be able to get to the Hilary Step by 11 even if they do hit a bit of traffic along the sole rope there.

Louis should be thankful that they’re on time, but all he feels is relief that they can stop for a few moments. They’ve separated into small groups, so it’s just their sherpa -- Dengbo -- and Niall, Liam, Jesy, Willie, Harry and him. Everyone looks terrible, even Dengbo and Niall, who have done this all before. Dengbo has summited Everest nine times. Louis, meanwhile, can’t imagine ever wanting to come back up here. Everything is dark and cold and desperate, worsened only by Louis’s foul mood.

Niall forces them to drink some water and eat. Nobody ever gets hungry in the death zone, so this is where the energy gels they’ve brought come in handy. Louis downs four of them and drinks as much water as he can manage before feeling like he’s going to puke. He hopes it’s enough calories to carry him through to their next break before a short rock wall.

Louis tries his best not to think about anything other than the ground under his feet as he moves forward, but the words Harry and him exchanged earlier that afternoon echo in his head. Or is it the day before now?

It hurts no matter when they were said, that he doesn’t matter, that nothing out of all the good times that he’s had on the Everest journey -- all of them with Harry -- those don’t matter. Louis was so hopeful day ago that Harry was someone he could take back from Everest with him.

But there’s a space between them now, one that grows deeper with every silent moment. It feels like it would be impossible to reach him, even though all Louis would have to do is lean forward to touch Harry. But it wouldn’t be the same Harry he’s known, the light-hearted, goofy guy who is always up for an adventure and always willing to brighten the toughest days with a hilariously awful joke. Louis can’t reach that Harry anymore. There’s a wall there now, an invisible one, built out of the secrets Harry won’t tell Louis, the reasons Harry lashed out at him.

Louis wonders if he did touch Harry, maybe just a steadying touch to Harry’s back or an encouraging pat on Harry’s shoulder, if that touch would help, if just a touch could break down that wall.

But Louis doesn’t touch him. He doesn’t lean over, because all of his effort goes to the climb. Louis has to think about every single step he takes. He needs to concentrate on how to lift his foot and how to put it back down again. He taps his climbing poles along the ground with every step so the sound will remind him he’s still there, still moving.

Louis wonders at times if he’s dying as they keep moving forward, still not speaking, still listening to ice axes and chopping and Harry’s coughs. His lungs burn, heart racing. He pants as if there’s no oxygen flowing through his mask at all. Everything is cold. The daylight still hasn’t broken through completely, and every part of his body hurts. His brain isn’t working right. Everything feels floaty, and he isn’t sure where he exists in the span of time. It’s morning here, or is it? Is it still night? Does morning happen on the top of the mountain? Does morning even matter at all?

Louis is aware enough to recognize these thoughts are strange, but he’s not aware enough to guess at how to make it better. He wonders if he should stop, whether his brain fog is a sign that things are about to take a turn for the worse. He could give up, tell Niall he just can’t do it.

But Harry keeps moving forward, and if there’s one thought Louis can’t bear more than anything else, it’s the idea that Harry would reach the summit and Louis wouldn’t. Louis can still lift his legs and he can still breathe, even if it seems like he’s breathing too fast.

So he goes on as the sun rises, eventually bathing the entire mountain and sky in a golden warmth. When they stop beneath a short rock wall for a quick snack to power them through the climb up, Louis takes a second to look around.

He already feels like he’s on top of the world. The clouds are below him, strange as that may seem. The little ridge of mountain they stand on pokes out of the top of those clouds, and all Louis has to do is look to his right and he can see the sun rising over Tibet. To his left, the sun rises over Nepal.

And Louis stands there, watching from the highest vantage point in the world, like he’s as high up as God almost. How many people get to experience that? It’s pure ecstasy.

The golden light of sunrise washes over him, warming him and bringing him back to life, easing the aches and pains that were accumulating on the climb through the dark. This, Louis thinks briefly. This is why he came. It’s the most breathtaking vision he has ever seen, a landscape shared by a very select few in a world of over 7 billion people.

But then Niall is rushing them forward.

“We have to get going,” he says. “We have to stay on schedule.”

Nothing is more important than the schedule. Louis knows this. The majority of people survive the climb up Everest. It’s the descent that’s most deadly, and one of the best ways to survive that descent is to reach the summit early so exhausted climbers trying to make their way back down to Camp 4 don’t get trapped under the cover of night. That’s when hypothermia and cerebral edema and all of the bad stuff can set in. Getting caught above Camp 4 at night is one way to ensure a climber will never see another sunrise again. So now that the sun is up, the clock is ticking.

They prepare to climb the rock wall the same way as they’ve climbed all of the others ones on Everest. They clip back into the rope like normal. Liam heads up first, then Willie and then Harry. Louis is supposed to follow Harry up, and the idea of having to watch Harry the entire time doesn’t bother Louis so much now that he’s had a taste of how incredible the summit might feel. He wants to get there, wants to be there now. Maybe everything else has gone wrong, everything with Harry, but he could still reach the summit and return home to say he’s conquered the tallest mountain on Earth. That’s still something.

Harry is halfway up the wall when Louis steps forward to secure his harness to the line.

He’s still thinking about the summit when Harry falls.

 

 

***

 

Harry’s fall happens in slow motion for Louis, the way he zips a short way down the rope before crashing into the wall once, and then a second time. Harry’s body goes limp as it dangles from the rope, his leg hanging at an odd angle, and it’s as if all the excited energy is suddenly sapped from Louis’s body, pure panic rushing in to replace it. He doesn’t think, just yanks on the rope to pull Harry down.

Harry fell. He fell in the death zone and people don’t make it out alive when that happens. Harry fell and now he could die.

Louis isn’t aware of anyone else. He doesn’t know if anyone helps him get Harry off the rope, but they must because then Harry is lying on the ground underneath him, eyes closed, and Louis can’t tell whether he’s breathing or not. He slaps at Harry’s cheeks, trying to get him to wake up.

“Harry?” he yells. “Harry?”

This is all Louis’s fault. That’s all he can think as Niall gives Harry an injection of something. Louis upset Harry the night before -- or was it the day? He made Harry upset, made Harry waste his energy yelling at Louis. And maybe Harry was thinking about their fight that whole climb. He was distracted, and he’s been distracted the entire time they’ve been on the mountain because Louis has been taking too much of his attention away from the summit bid. Harry told Louis as much hours earlier.

Louis should have left Harry alone. He should have let Harry climb the way he’s always climbed instead of messing with Harry’s routine for the past few weeks. Harry was focused on Louis instead of the mountain, a huge mistake, and the evidence of that is lying in the snow in front of Louis, terribly, awfully still.

It’s as if Louis has been punched in the chest, all the air knocked out of him. He sits back on his heels, struck by the grief of the realization that Harry is going to die and it’s going to be all his fault. He should do something, he thinks, anything, but he’s too shocked to move.

Louis is vaguely aware that someone sits down next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders -- Jesy? She’s wearing a red suit, right? -- but he can’t tear his gaze away from Harry’s body or the way Niall and Dengbo are working on him, fast, a sign that Harry’s in danger.  

It feels like it takes forever, like Harry will certainly never wake up, but then he does.

Harry’s eyes flutter open, and it’s only then that Louis realizes he can breathe again. Most of Harry’s face is covered by the oxygen mask they’re all wearing, but his eyes, his green, green eyes are all that matter to Louis in that moment. Louis leans back over Harry’s body, and he tears up as Harry looks up at him and lifts a gloved hand to brush the side of Louis’s face. Harry mumbles something that Louis can’t make out through the mask, but he doesn’t want to remove it in case Harry needs the extra oxygen.

Louis doesn’t need his own oxygen though, not if Harry’s breathing again. He’s fine as long as Harry lives, so Louis tears off his mask and leans down to rest his hooded forehead against Harry’s. It’s as close to Harry as Louis can get.

“Haz, babe, you’re alright,” Louis breathes. “You’re gonna be alright,” he promises, over and over again as if the more he says it, the more it will be true.

Harry’s not alright though. His breathing sounds awful. It rattles through him, and when Harry coughs, thick and heavy, Niall lifts Harry’s mask slightly off his face. There’s a bit of frothy spit spattered with blood that drips down Harry’s chin.

“Niall to base. Harry’s awake. Red cough. We’re going to need some help immediately. Over,” he hears. Niall’s radio call sounds like it’s coming from far away, but Niall pats Louis’s shoulder and kneels down beside him.

Harry’s eyes start to close again.

“Harry?” Niall asks. Harry moans in response. “Harry, you need to stay awake, okay? Keep your eyes open for me.” He places the mask back over Harry’s face and increases the oxygen flow.

“S’tired,” Harry slurs. His voice sounds terrible, muffled somewhat by the mask and scratchy, so deep that Louis barely even recognizes it.

“I know,” Niall says. “But you have to stay awake, just for a little while, okay? Then we’ll get you back to the tent and you can sleep all you want. I’m going to give you another injection to help keep you awake. Then it will be easier.”

Harry nods, but his eyes are closing again. Louis moves without thinking, slapping Harry’s cheeks until he opens his eyes again.

“Harry, babe, stay with me, okay? Stay with me,” he says as Niall shuffles around behind him. It should register somewhere in Louis that this is bad, that Harry coughing up blood is not normal, but all Louis can focus on is keeping Harry with him. It’s like he can’t think past that very second, like the only thing keeping Louis tethered to the ground and not falling apart is his ability to keep Harry awake.

“Lou, we have to get him down, fast,” Niall says. “Some of the sherpas and I will get him back to camp. But you can go on if you want. You can still make it to the summit if that’s what you want to do.”

Louis doesn’t really understand what Niall is trying to say. He must be crazy to think Louis would go on when Harry is lying here, barely conscious and breathing like there’s something rattling around in his chest. Harry could be dying. Louis knows deep down what this is. He knows that Harry’s gravely ill.

But they spent all of the afternoon before fighting. He fought with Harry only hours ago, and now Harry might die. Louis has to keep Harry alive. He can’t let this end with Harry thinking Louis is mad at him, with Harry not knowing how much he is loved.

“No fucking way am I leaving him,” Louis says, still crouched over Harry.

“Lou, you won’t summit,” Niall says. He’s worried, Louis can see it in his face. And he still thinks Louis would climb without Harry. Someone should make sure Niall’s not getting fucked up by the altitude.

Louis knows they need to get Harry down as fast as possible, but they’re too high to have the strength to carry Harry very far, too high for a doctor to meet them. Helicopter rescues only happen at Base Camp, really, and no helicopter can fly this high. They’ll have to work together to get Harry to somewhere where he can be helped, and Louis is sure as hell going to be by Harry’s side the entire way. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he entrusted Harry’s life to someone else, no matter how much Louis respects Niall and the sherpas and the doctors waiting lower down the mountain.

“I’m not leaving him,” Louis insists.

Niall just looks at him for a few seconds, then nods. “Ok. Can you help carry him? Do you feel good enough to do that? Because we can get --”

“Yeah, I’ll carry him,” Louis interrupts. “I’m fine. I’ve got it.”

“Ok. Then I’m gonna need you to distract him for a second here. We have to get his leg stabilized, and it’s going to hurt like a bitch. Can you do that? He needs to stay as calm as possible. He needs to breathe as deeply as he can.”

Louis nods. He can do that. He can do anything as long as Harry gets out of this alive.

Niall gives Harry another injection while Dengbo does something with ropes and metal rods. Then Niall nods at Louis, and Louis cradles Harry’s face in his hands.

“Harry, we’re going to get you down, okay?” Louis says. He’s vaguely aware of Niall and Dengbo doing something to Harry’s legs. Harry’s face screws up in pain but he doesn’t yell out. He’s too breathless to yell, Louis thinks.  

“You’re doing so good, Harry,” Louis promises. He has no idea how he’s coming up with the stuff. He doesn’t think about what he’s saying, just speaks. “Just keep your eyes open, okay? Can you just keep looking at me?”

Harry’s eyelids start to droop, but he catches himself and opens his eyes again even though it looks like it takes a lot of effort.

“Do we … have … life vests?” Harry asks between breaths.

“Life vests?”

Harry nods. “In case … we capsize.”

Harry must not know where he is. Louis feels sick. If he’s delusional already …

“Louis, just keep him awake,” Niall says from somewhere behind him. His voice is gritty, the stress clear. “Just agree with what he says, yeah?”

“Yeah Harry, we have life vests,” Louis says. His heart is breaking. He’s watching Harry die, he thinks. They aren’t moving fast enough.

“Niall, we have to go,” Louis urges. He’s itching to move. Harry’s fading. “Let’s just go.”

“We’re almost done,” Niall says. “Just keep him talking.”

Louis searches his brain for something to say, anything. “Do you have your necklace on?” he asks. “Your lucky one?”

Louis tries not to think of the bracelet he broke the night before. Why would he do that? He's an idiot

Harry doesn’t respond, so Louis asks again. “Harry? Your necklace? You have to tell me if you’re wearing it.”

Harry nods, slowly, just a little. “Good,” Louis says. “That’s good, babe. That necklace will keep you safe, you remember? What did you tell me about the stones? Which one is your favorite?”

Harry lies there, his chest still heaving with the effort of breathing, that nasty rattle a seeming echo in Louis’s head. “Life vests,” Harry says. “Need ‘em.”

“Okay, Dengbo and I are going to lift him now,” Niall says. “Dengbo will get his head. I have his legs. Louis, can you follow us? Everyone else, go on ahead. If you aren’t at the Hilary Step by 11, turn around, you hear me?”

“Got it,” Jesy says from somewhere behind Louis, but Louis doesn’t even care. His stomach is sinking. They’re going to take Harry away from him.

“I can hold him,” Louis argues. “I can help carry him.” Niall barely looks at Louis as he finishes stuffing random supplies back in his pack.

“No, Dengbo’s stronger right now,” Niall says. "You can switch in if either of us need relief.”

Dengbo gently pushes Louis out of the way and grabs under Harry’s armpits, lifting the upper end of his body while Niall lifts Harry’s legs. They start walking down before Louis can protest anymore.

Right, Louis thinks. They have to get him down fast. That’s what matters here. But it still aches in the core of his being as he trails uselessly behind Niall and Dengbo as they retrace their steps to go back down from where they just climbed.

Going down goes much faster than coming up. They weave their way around climbers still heading up, some of them gawking at Harry like he’s a zoo animal while others ignore the rescue expedition altogether. Niall and Dengbo don’t seem to notice anyone else. They keep hustling Harry down, Dengbo murmuring to Harry the entire way. They’re near the balcony, Louis thinks, when a couple of people in red down suits meet up with them.

It’s a back-up team to help get Harry down. They have one of the sleds -- which is nothing more than a flat board, really -- that are kept at the balcony and help Niall and Dengbo tie Harry into it. Then Dengbo gestures to Louis. “You take his head,” Dengbo says. Niall and the other two men are already starting to slide Harry down, careful but quick, so Louis pushes himself to take a couple of fast steps to catch up.

He’s almost waiting for Niall to say something, like the arrival of the back-up team would allow Niall to pay a little more attention to Louis as well, to the way Louis is trying not to fall apart, but it’s like Niall doesn’t even notice Louis. He doesn’t look at him, doesn’t talk to him, just keeps going down as fast as he can. Louis isn’t sure he can keep up with Niall and the back-up climbers. His body feels like he’s just run a marathon, but when he looks at Harry’s face, he forgets about the strain in his own lungs. Harry’s eyes are closed again, his eyelids tinged blue. He looks dead.

“Harry,” Louis says, his voice stern. “You stay with me, Harry. You can’t leave me.”

 

***

 

They get to Camp 4 faster than Louis imagined they’d be able. It takes a few hours -- three at most -- and Harry remains unconscious for almost all of it. Louis’s body begs him to lay down and nap. His legs feel like jelly, but he can’t bring himself to leave Harry’s side. They get Harry to wake up at Camp 4 and stay there long enough just to strap Harry more securely into the sled. A different expedition’s leader convinces Harry to take a puffer of some sort, while everyone else drinks some water and eats a few energy gels before it’s back up and out of the tent to go down the rope to Camp 3.

There’s only one rope between Camp 4 and the summit, but there are two between Camp 3 and Camp 4, one for going up and one for going down. The expedition leader from Camp 4 has already managed to get everyone else on the mountain to stay clear of heading down until they get Harry down first so there won’t be any traffic holding up Harry’s descent.

They move at a speed which concerns Louis but also comforts him. It’s fast enough that it’s clear to Louis that they aren’t out of danger yet. Harry is still very precariously holding on to life. But it’s reassuring that they’re moving. They’re getting Harry down and it’s still only midday. In Louis’s mind, if they can get Harry to Camp 2 by dinner, he’ll be okay.

But halfway down to Camp 3, a group of climbers wearing red cross vests -- doctors, he realizes -- meet up with them.

“We’ll take it from here,” one of them tells Niall.

Then someone tries to push Louis out of the way. Whatever calm had been building in Louis shatters. He grips the edges of Harry’s sled with every ounce of energy left in him, but it’s a losing effort. His body is wasted.

“I can’t leave him,” Louis protests, ignoring the way his muscles scream. “I’m staying with him.”

“We’ve got to get him down,” one of the men says. He’s American, Louis notes. “You can meet up with him at Camp 2.”

“I’m not leaving,” Louis insists, but the doctors push him away from the sled and Niall pulls Louis away too, forcing him to let go of Harry.

“It’s okay,” Niall says. “They’re going to get him down. Let’s sit for a second, yeah?”

Louis doesn’t realize he’s crying until that moment. Tears blur his vision of the doctors and Dengbo hustling Harry down the mountain. Niall and Louis watch in silence for a few moments until Louis can’t bear the sight anymore. He rests his head between his knees and lets himself cry, full-on body-trembling sobs.

“Lou, he’s getting the best help we have,” Niall says. He rubs Louis’s back, but Louis can barely feel it.

“You don’t get it,” Louis says. “This is all my fault.”

“It’s not,” Niall says. “It’s not anyone’s fault.”

Louis shakes his head bitterly. “It is my fault,” he insists. “He was mad at me. I distracted him from the climb. We fought about it before we left for the summit.”

“I’m sure he was just stressed. He didn’t mean it.”

“He did,” Louis says. “I should have just left him alone. I should have just let him climb the way he always does. But he’s been distracted ever since he got to Base Camp all because we had this thing going on and it was stupid, right? It was stupid to think this silly thing between us matters, to think that it was something real, and it’s not. It’s not real at all. Harry said so. And he wasn’t focused ever since he got here and now everything’s gone wrong. He’s going to die and it’s all my fault.”

Niall doesn’t say anything for a few moments, probably because there’s nothing to say. There’s no way to correct Louis because Louis’s right about this. He knows it. Niall wasn’t in that tent the day before. He didn’t hear what Harry said. He didn’t see how Harry looked at Louis.

“D’you feel okay to walk?” Niall asks. “Let’s just get down to Camp 3 and then we can have a bit of a kip, yeah? That’ll help you feel better.”

“No, we have to get to Camp 2,” Louis says. “That’s where they’re taking Harry.”

“Lou, you’re tired. I’m tired. The doctors will take good care of Harry. We have to rest so that you can be at your best once we get to Harry.”

Louis stands up. There’s no way he’s staying overnight at Camp 3. It’s still early enough in the day, but he wouldn’t care even if they do have to climb down in the dark. He’s not staying away from Harry any longer than necessary, and if that means fooling Niall into thinking he’ll stay at Camp 3, that’s just what Louis will have to do.

 

 

_May 11: Camp 2_

 

As it turns out, Niall doesn’t make Louis stay at Camp 3. He must know from the way Louis refuses to talk all the way down that there will be no keeping Louis from Harry, so they only stop long enough to eat something more substantial than an energy gel and then head down to Camp 2. For anyone who isn’t in a rush, it should only take about four or five hours to get down from Camp 4 to Camp 2. It takes Niall and Louis just over three hours.

Harry is in some form of oxygen chamber when they get there. The doctors tell them that Harry has HAPE, high-altitude pulmonary edema, and that he’s slightly more conscious than he was when he got there, but he’s still in rough shape. His lungs are full of so much fluid that he’s basically drowning in his own spit.

“You can’t see him yet,” the doctor tells Louis. “He’s in a portable altitude chamber right now for treatment, but we’re going to take him out in 45 minutes to reassess him. You can come in then.”

“But what if he doesn’t … what if that’s too late?” Louis asks. He can’t bring himself to say the word “dead,” not now.

“He’s responding to treatment so far. It’s a good thing you were able to get him down so fast. This chamber is the best way to help him get rid of this fast. We’ll find you when he can come out.”

Louis’ too tired to really fight the doctor on this. “Okay, but can you just tell him I’m here? He has to know that, yeah? Tell him Louis is here.”

“Niall, too,” Niall says. He shakes the doctor’s hand and thanks him, then drags Louis away to one of their tents belonging to their expedition group. Louis strips off his gear so he’s down to just his waterproof climbing trousers and a long-sleeve shirt. It’s warm in Camp 2, especially compared to Camp 4, and the sun is only just starting to set. The cot feels like heaven to him, and part of him just wants to sleep for a full day straight, but his mind still races with thoughts of Harry.

“Is it normal for them to do this?” Louis asks. “To put him in that chamber thing?”

“I’ve never been on an expedition when someone’s had HAPE,” Niall says. “I don’t know, but they aren’t sending him down farther, so they probably think he’s stable for now.” He sits down on the cot across from Louis and pulls his boots off. “You did the best you could, Lou. I want you to know that. This isn’t your fault.”

“But what if it’s not good enough?” Louis asks. His throat is tight like he might cry again. “What if he doesn’t make it and just … what if the last thing we did was fight? And he never knows, like, I never get a chance to tell him that I …” Louis can’t finish his sentence.

What if he never gets to tell Harry he loves him? That word sits inside of him, plain as day.

 _Love_.

Because that’s what this is, Louis recognizes. That’s why it feels like part of his heart is inside that portable altitude chamber with Harry, why it doesn’t feel like it will be okay until he can get there and see Harry. He’s not complete without Harry, and it’s because he loves him. And now Harry could die without Louis ever getting the chance to tell him.

Niall doesn’t say anything. He simply comes to sit beside Louis, ruffling Louis’s hair fondly before pulling him in for a cuddle. They stay like that and wait.

 

 

***

 

A doctor comes to fetch them just under an hour later. They’ll get a few minutes with Harry, but then the doctors want to put him back in the chamber. Louis can’t see Harry when he first gets into the medical tent. It’s a big tent, full of cots and all kinds of medical gadgets and monitors. But then he sees what looks like a red tube in the back of the tent, and Harry is resting on a cot beside it.

The doctors had told Louis to try not to worry Harry and to keep him calm, but Louis isn’t in any shape to control his emotions. Harry is hooked up to all kinds of monitors. There are wires coming out of his shirt and another one attached to some gadget on his finger. He’s hooked up to a drip and has an oxygen cannula on, but he doesn’t have a blue tinge to his eyelids anymore. He’s still pale, but he’s alive.

“Harry,” Louis breathes. He reaches out to touch him but then pulls back at the last second. What if Harry doesn’t want Louis to touch him? What if Harry isn’t so happy to see Louis?”

“Lou?” Harry asks, looking up at Louis like he’s not real. “How’d you … get here?” He’s still somewhat breathless, better than before but not all the way.

“I followed you down. I didn’t leave you, not until they made me.”

“But … the summit,” Harry says, then stops to take a breath. “Did you? Summit?”

“You fell before,” Louis says. He’s not sure if Harry remembers falling, or where they were when he fell, or whether he remembers any of it at all. “I came down with you.”

“Hey, Haz,” Niall says. He grabs Harry’s hand and pats his shoulder, and Louis wants to warn him, wants to say “don’t touch.” It feels like Harry’s too fragile for anyone but Louis to touch him, but Louis knows that’s not fair. He’s not a doctor, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“How are you feeling?” Niall asks Harry. “You look good.”

Niall’s lying, but Harry doesn’t seem to realize it. “I’m good,” Harry says. “You should ... go back … help everyone summit.”

Louis hasn’t even thought of the rest of their group, still up at the top of the mountain. He nearly forget about the summit entirely. Leave it to Harry to still think of others while he’s nearly dying.

“I’ll go back,” Niall reassures him. “I just wanted to check in on you first.”

Harry nods deeply, like he’s considering what Niall said. “I’m good,” Harry says. “Tired.”

“You get some sleep then,” Niall says. “Me and Louis just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“Don’t want … Lou … to worry,” Harry huffs out. He looks up at Louis then, his eyes still hazy. “I’m sorry.”

Louis doesn’t know exactly what Harry’s sorry for, whether it’s the fight or falling or Louis not summiting or something else completely, but he still has to bite his lip to keep the tears from coming. Harry can’t worry about Louis when he’s like this. Harry’s not okay, Louis thinks. He’s still so out of it. He’s going to die and it’s all Louis’s fault.

Louis crouches down next to Harry’s cot. He can’t stop himself as he brushes some of Harry’s hair out of his face and kisses his forehead, just once, just lightly.

“You just get better, yeah?” Louis says. “I’ll be right here. You just have to get better.”

The doctor tries to usher them out again and Louis realizes that he’s about to miss out on another chance -- possibly his last -- to tell Harry how he feels. He can’t do that, can’t leave Harry like that again, and even though it looks like Harry’s falling asleep again, Louis whispers into Harry’s ear anyway.

“I love you,” he says. “So you have to get better, even if you don’t love me back.”

That’s all he’s able to say before the he gets kicked out of the medical tent again.

 

 

_May 13: Kathmandu Hospital_

 

The brief conversation in the medical tent is the last Louis sees of Harry for two long and horrible days. So when Louis arrives in Kathmandu, alone and barely able to process anything that’s going on, the only thing that keeps him going is his immediate need to get to the hospital and see Harry.

The doctors at Camp 2 had decided Harry wasn’t improving fast enough for their liking. He also had broken bones in his leg that he needed surgery on, so they carried him down to Base Camp that night he fell and flew him via helicopter to Kathmandu the next morning.

Louis wasn’t able to see Harry at all. Everything happened too quickly, and the doctors seemed more focused on helping Harry than allowing visitors in. Helicopter evacuations from Everest are expensive, so Louis took a yak out to Lukla where the nearest airport is. Then he had to wait until the morning of the 13th for a flight back to Kathmandu.

It was a half-hour flight on an old propeller plane, and if Louis’s nerves weren’t shot before he stepped on board, they were through the roof by the time he landed.

But by the time he finally reaches the hospital, he isn’t thinking as much about the flight or the fact that Liam, Jesy and Willie had all summited without him. He doesn’t even think of Niall waiting for news back in Base Camp. Louis’s mind stays solely on Harry. He hasn’t had a status update on Harry in over 24 hours.

Louis still half-expects to find out that Harry’s dead when he gets to the hospital, so he’s stunned when he walks into Harry’s room to find Harry sitting up in bed, no oxygen mask in sight, happily feasting on a bowl of noodles.

Louis bursts into tears when he sees him.

“Louis,” Harry says happily. He urges Louis over and pulls him down for a tight hug. Louis buries his face in Harry’s neck, unable to stop the tears from flowing. Harry stills smells like Harry, a type of spice Louis can’t name and a bit of sweat and a hint of juniper. His skin is soft and mostly clean, and Louis is acutely aware that he hasn’t showered in nearly a week and is probably getting all kinds of germs all over Harry. He attempts to pull away, but Harry won’t let go even though he’s laughing in Louis’s ear.

“It’s not funny,” Louis protests. “I thought you were dead.”

“But I’m not,” Harry reasons, simple as that.

“I thought you were. Jesus, Harry, you have no idea.”

“Well it’s a good thing then that I’m here and not dead.”

Louis sighs against the skin of Harry’s neck, too relieved to be mad. “God, I love you, you know?” he says. Before Harry has a chance to respond, Louis rambles on. “And it’s fine if you don’t love me back. I don’t even care anymore. As long as you’re alive, I don’t care. You just have to be okay.”

Louis’s heart is racing as if he’s back on the mountain again, but Harry just pulls at him so Louis is sitting on the bed next to Harry instead of crouching awkwardly over him. He tangles his fingers between Louis’s as a slow, dumb smile spreads across his face. Louis already knows what Harry is going to say.

“I do love you back. Of course I do,” he says. “And I heard you when you said it the first time, too. Back on the mountain. I don’t remember a whole lot, but I remember that.”

Louis wants to burst with happiness, but he still needs to know more, needs to know exactly what happened to Harry.

“Do you remember, like, what happened at all?” Louis asks. “Or falling? What’s the last thing you remember?”

Harry leans back against the pillows, his hand still in Louis’s. “I remember leaving for the summit and climbing through the dark. And I remember stopping at the balcony, but everything is hazy after that. It’s like I have bits and pieces, like when you wake up from a dream and you can’t remember all of it but you still sort of know what happened. Like I don’t remember falling but I know that it happened. And obviously,” he stops to gesture down at his leg. It’s wrapped in a hard cast that Louis hadn’t even noticed when he walked in. “I feel like I fell. It hurts. But I remember seeing your eyes on the way down maybe? And everything was bumpy and I felt like I was floating, like I could just float away and all the pain would be gone, but I could still see your eyes. You have really pretty eyes, you know that?” Harry says.

“You’re an idiot,” Louis tells him, but he hugs him tighter then pulls back again. “Did you know you were sick? Before you fell? Do you remember that.”

Harry flushes and looks down at his lap. “Yeah, I um. I probably should have … It’s just ... I wanted to summit so badly so I could be done with all this climbing. It was my last summit, yeah? But when we got back to Base Camp from Gorak Shep, I had this bad feeling. I know it’s stupid, but I felt it in my gut that it wasn’t going to go well.”

“You could have said something,” Louis says. “You should have told me.”

“But I couldn’t,” Harry says. “I didn’t want you to be worried or distracted when you climbed. I didn’t want anything to happen to you, and like I always care about people when I’m climbing with them and everything, but it was different with you. Like I wanted you to summit even more than I did, and I thought if I told you, it would mess with you or something and you wouldn’t be focused. So I didn’t say anything.”

“That’s all though? You just had a bad feeling?”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “I started feeling weird when we were going up, like more tired than usual, but HAPE usually comes on really fast so I thought maybe I was just sick or something. But it just kept getting worse. And I could tell you were worried but I didn’t want you to know so I just kept telling you I was fine. And then I knew I was hurting you and I felt really bad, but I didn’t know what to do other than push you away so that if something happened to me, maybe you wouldn’t care?”

“Harry, I could never --”

“No, let me explain first,” he says. “I just … maybe I was a little scared too, about how I felt about you. Because I meet a lot of people on a lot of mountains, but I never really stay in touch once we all go home. And I just felt so much with you. I didn’t know what would happen if we went home and didn’t talk anymore. I didn’t want you to disappear, but I don’t know how to make things work with, like, relationships. I never have. So I thought maybe it was all for the best if we just got in a big fight and that was the reason we never talked again because at least I could blame something other than me being a stupid idiot about keeping in touch off the mountain. But I think maybe I was just getting in my own way.”

“You’re not stupid,” Louis says. “Or, well, that was a really stupid plan. Monumentally idiotic. But you’re still not stupid.”

“I fucked it all up and then I nearly got myself killed,” Harry says. He looks dubious.

“As I said, that part of it was monumentally idiotic. But I get it, that part about worrying whether this would work out between us when we get home. I was worried too, but then you fell and I think almost losing you ... I just know that I don’t want to live without you. I wouldn’t let you lose touch with me because I’d drive hours to see you even if you forget to call. I flew here on the shittiest plane ever just to see you. We can make it work … or we can if you want to, I guess.”

Harry smiles at that, his face lit up in joy. “Yeah? We’ll make a go of this?”

Louis floods with joy, the weight of the past few days all but disappeared. “Only if you promise to never die on me again without letting me know first,” Louis says.

Harry bites his lip as if that would hide his smile at all. “I can try,” he says, and Louis doesn’t think at all before he leans in to kiss Harry for the first time in forever. Harry holds Louis as close to him as they can manage, kissing him over and over again until one of the monitors beside Harry starts to beep. It’s the oxygen monitor. The number (which apparently is too low) flashes at them like a stern parent.

Louis pulls away to look at the monitor. “You have to hurry up and get better so we can make out again,” Louis tells him. “At home and in a bed. Preferably a real one.”

A nurse comes in before Harry can respond. Louis springs away from the bed, backing into a corner of the room as if he’s been caught doing something wrong.  

Harry, however, apparently feels no remorse. “I’m fine,” he tells her. “It was nothing.”

The monitor stops beeping, but she still checks Harry out quickly, making sure all of his wires are attached properly.

“You have to rest, Mr. Styles.”

“Harry,” he corrects.

“Rest,” she says. She glances up at Louis. “You have a visitor today?”

“This is Louis,” Harry says. “My boyfriend.”

Louis could kill Harry. He doesn’t mind that they didn’t talk about putting a label on anything, but he isn’t sure about how people in Nepal feel about non-traditional relationships. But she just smiles and nods at Louis.

“Ah, Louis. Harry’s talked a lot about you. He says you saved his life.”

Louis raises his eyebrows at Harry but plays along. “What can I say? I’m a hero.”

Harry snorts in laughter, but his nurse just looks fondly at both of them before leaving the room again.

“Saved your life?” Louis asks. “What else have you told these people about me? Did you tell them how strong I am? Did you tell them about my muscles?”

“Shut up,” Harry mutters. “I like you a lot better when you tell me how much you love me.”

So Louis does, over and over again, because he can and because Harry is alive to hear it and because Harry loves Louis right back. It might not be the summit of Everest, but it’s everything to Louis.

 

***

 

_One year later_

 

Harry and Louis open the doors to their new climbing school on May 11, one year to the day that Harry nearly died atop Everest. No one would ever know how close Harry came to death if they didn’t ask him about the story behind the scar on his left calf. It’s from his operation in Kathmandu to fix the bones he broke on the fall.

Harry’s lungs healed pretty quickly once they got him off the mountain, and he was well enough to have a small party with Niall, Jesy, Liam and the rest of their expedition group back at the hotel in Kathmandu just a week after his fall. It was the final hurrah before everyone flew back home.

That was the last time Louis or Harry saw most of the people from their group, except for Niall, of course. He's been around almost every day helping them create the school. He joined the staff as an instructor when Louis called to tell him about Harry and his plans to start up the gym for troubled kids or kids who simply wanted to learn more about the outdoors. Apparently Niall was tired of climbing across ladders over bottomless crevasses, and Harry’s brush with death left Niall spooked. He was only too happy to help out with the new venture instead of furthering his guiding career.

They hadn’t seen or heard from Liam aside from a few emails back and forth when Harry’s sister, Gemma, had her baby a couple months after they got home from Everest. Liam had given Harry a packet of soil from the summit of Everest to complete Harry’s baby gift, so Harry felt compelled to send Liam pictures every now and then of baby Everett.

They sort of stayed in touch with Jesy. She had sent each of them a few texts in the weeks after the expedition, while Harry and Louis were still making the rounds on talk shows to discuss what Harry’s rescue was like, and they meet up with her every now and then for dinner. Apparently, Harry was one of the rare successful rescues at that elevation, so the news was enamored by the story.

It wasn’t until after all the fuss died down a few months later that Louis and Harry could really start living their own life. Harry moved up to Doncaster to be with Louis, and they decided to start up a climbing school with some of the money from Harry’s inheritance and the checks from all of their post-Everest media appearances.

Now that the building is ready to go, they’re set to christen it with a party, a reunion of sorts with all of the people who can make it from the Everest expedition and all of their family and friends who have supported them since through all of their climbing years.

Louis is just putting out all of the floral arrangements on the tables -- Harry insisted on them -- when Niall arrives with all the kegs for the party.

“I’ll put these on the back counter, yeah?” he calls as he walks in with one of them.

“Sounds perfect,” Louis says. He straightens one of the tablecloths and picks up a stray flower petal.

“Cake’s ready,” Harry announces, strolling into the main room from the kitchen. Harry was in charge of the baking for the party, and he’s only just finished -- _“I used to be a baker when I was younger,”_ _Harry had said when they were still in the early party planning stages and he was insisting on doing all of the baking himself_. Harry likes to constantly remind Louis of his previous baking career, one that Louis is pretty sure lasted all of eight months while Harry was still in sixth form, but whatever. Harry looks good in an apron, especially when he’s baking at home and he’s starkers underneath it.  

But they’re at their climbing school -- their very own gym -- and other people are on their way, so Harry unfortunately is fully clothed.  

“The flowers look perfect, Lou,” Harry says. He takes off his apron and gives Louis a quick peck on the cheek.

“I still don’t think we need them,” Louis says. He’d never admit to Harry that they actually do make the space look more festive and less like a climbing gym.      

“Are you happy, though?” Harry asks. “Is it how you wanted it to be?”

Louis smiles and wipes a bit of icing off Harry’s cheek. “It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” he says, and then he kisses Harry because he can, because Harry’s alive, because they’re both back home and they’re just about to start their lives together.

What can Louis say if he’s a bit of a sap? It’s a side-effect of living with Harry, and Louis would never trade that for anything.  

 

_fin_

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://ceaseand-exist.tumblr.com/). If you've gotten this far, thank you so so much for reading this!


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